Are You Sure You're 26?
by dianatrout
Summary: Long time reader, first time Fan Fiction writer. I love "Younger" and wish there was more fiction. So I am taking a stab at it, starting with one of my favorite episodes, "Sk8," and letting that babysitting gig take Liza and Charles to interesting places.
1. The Babysitter

_What if Josh didn't pick Liza up that night after babysitting?_

"Are you sure you're 26?"

Liza laughed when she heard it, sitting casually on a couch in the audacious living room of her very rich, very tall, very smart and very handsome boss. Or boss's boss.

She had been pretending to be 26 for a few months now and didn't know if she had it down. Every move felt like a trap. Every time she spoke, she thought she'd be found out. Right now, though, she felt like her old self.

The whiskey had gone down smooth and warm and she wondered if Charles was surprised she readily took it. What did millennials drink — rose? Something fruity? When she was the age she was pretending to be now, she had a toddler but still drank whiskey a few times a year, at weddings or on the really bad days after Caitlin went to sleep.

The drink loosened her up, always, and tonight it made her feel nice. But she wasn't so far gone to tell herself to change the subject away from age before she blew her own lie up, one drink in.

"This house, it's beautiful," she said. "Nicole gave me a brief tour. How long have you lived here?"

Charles looked around the formal living room.

"Oh, this?," he laughed. Nice, Liza thought. At least he's self aware.

"I actually grew up here. Parents got it for a steal," he said, laughing under his breath. He took another sip.

"I — we moved in a few years after Nicole was born," he said. "My dad passed away a few years before and my mom wanted something smaller."

"Is she -" Liza began, and Charles shook his head.

"She died a few years ago," he said. "I'm an only child. My parents got together a bit older. She was actually - "

He paused, and he looked away from Liza.

"- She worked at Empirical. An editor. Very successful in her own right, she'd want me to say. She was focused on her career, and always said she didn't want to get married. But then she met my father, and after a bit of avoiding it I guess you can say..."

"The heart won out," Liza said, and smiled. Charles smiled back.

"My mom continued working, and later left to write her own books. Historical nonfiction. A cookbook. A travel guide. Anita Brooks, the trailblazer. Her best friend was Belinda La Croix — she was her editor, actually," he said.

Liza's face lit up. "The queen of the romance novel!"

"So you know her!," he said, shocked. "She does well for us still but I never know how the ...younger generation takes to her."

"She's a classic," she said. "And still relevant. Strong powerful women having good sex!" She blushed. Charles eyes widened.

"Belinda certainly has a way with romance," he said. "She was always the best-dressed woman in the room, and as a kid I thought she was some sort of princess. Always in pink. Stood out amongst the really stuffy people."

He paused.

"I always feel a bit silly around all this...wealth," he said. "My parents made sure I knew there was life beyond our little world. But it's easy to forget."

"This doesn't seem like such a bad world," Liza said. "It's better than the suburbs."

Charles laughed. "Is that where you're from?"

It had been so long since someone asked Liza about her life - about her real life, her childhood and the stuff besides her age - that she paused.

"Me? Yes. New Jersey. Not so bad," she said. "But not New York."

"Nothing is," he said. "I like New Jersey. Did you ... did you always want to work in publishing?"

After he said this he stood up and grabbed the carafe of whiskey.

"Are you anticipating you'll need more of that to listen as I describe my path into the world of books?"

"No," he said. "You might need it so I get the true story."

He leaned in and poured nearly to the top of her glass and Liza felt her face get hot. This was the closest she had been to him, and she she suddenly realized what he smelled like. Clean, if that made sense. So now this beautiful man had a smell associated with him, and Liza looked away.

"I, uh, I think I always wanted to work in books, once I figured out that I could," she said. "I used to think books were just imagined. My mom told me I could write my own books one day, or work on them, and then I'd always be around them."

"You didn't want to be a librarian?" he asked.

"The pay is probably the same," she said, but then regretted it. Would Charles think she was calling his company cheap?

"If you were a librarian, you wouldn't get the honor of working with the even-keeled and always amenable Diana Trout," he said, and then she really laughed.

"Oh, I'm not going there..." she said, and leaned back a bit. She was getting more comfortable on boss's boss's couch, now laughing at a joke he made about her boss.

"She's the best in the business, but I know she can be a bit much," he said. "She seems to really like you, though - and you've lasted much longer than all the others."

"Oh yea?"

"I think they average 3 weeks," he said. "But I take it you don't want to stay in marketing."

"I'm actually very happy just being around it all," she said "I didn't think I'd ever get back -"

Liza caught herself. What she wanted to say was that she didn't think she'd ever get back into publishing after taking nearly two decades off to raise her daughter, after going bankrupt through her husband's love of gambling. How with every interview she had to re-explain her absence, and the reactions from the people interviewing her seemed to get worse every time. How just being around it all felt like a life preserver in what had started to feel liked a deeper and darker ocean.

" - into the swing of things, after ... college," she said.

"Well I'm glad you got back into the... swing of things," Charles said. "I can tell you're a very smart young woman."

"Thank you," she said, looking away and tracing the rim of her glass.

"When you're not reading romance novels, what else do you like to read?," Charles asked.

As a teenager, Liza vowed to marry a man who always asked her about books. She knew even then it was rare; the high school boys didn't seem interested, and even at Dartmouth, where she studied literature, the boys there weren't really interested in what she read. They would just ask so they could quickly talk about what *they* liked.

Liza leaned back on the couch, her head rising up to the ceiling.

"That is a hard question," she said. "I loved 'Americanah,' and anything Zadie Smith. Irish literature — Bram Stoker is my favorite. But I can't leave out the classics. I read so much Hemingway in college I wanted to move to Paris."

"Hemingway, huh?," Charles said.

He paused, and looked at Liza.

"Can I, can I show you something?" He asked. He stood up. "Wait here."

Liza suddenly realized how late it was, although she didn't know for sure. She hadn't checked her phone in what felt like hours.

Charles stood up and tentatively put his glass down on the table. He made a left turn into a room Nicole had shown her - a study, or office - and emerged holding a large folder.

He sat down next next to Liza now and laid the folder out on the coffee table in front of them.

"My father had a pretty big collection of letters from authors," he said. "He collected a lot of things, and I've gotten rid of a lot. No sense in keeping it all.

But I kept this set. Hemingway and Marlena Dietrich's love letters," he said. "The 20th century version of sexting."

"They were a thing?" Liza asked, her eyes opening up.

"Not exactly," Charles said. "They said they were victims of ... unsynchronized passion. Could never match up. But the letters are very ... well, now that I think of it, maybe I shouldn't have brought them out."

Liza laughed.

"Oh, I've read worse, and I've said worse, too," she said. They looked at each other for a beat too long.

"Do you hear - " Liza said. There were tiny footsteps on the stairs.

"Daddy?" It was Bianca. "Daddy I looked for you -"

When she turned the corner her face lit up when she saw Liza.

"You're still here!" she said, and ran quickly over to hug Liza.

"Yea, I got ... tied up a bit talking to your dad," she said.

"What am I, chopped liver?," Charles joked, and she ran to him. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Daddy, I had a bad dream," she said, looking down. "I saw mommy in my dream."

Charles looked quickly at Liza — who felt like she was suddenly intruding on her boss's boss's private life, and like she wanted to run or collapse into the couch. But she was stuck.

"I know you miss mommy," he said, pulling Bianca closer into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, and Liza nearly melted at the sight of it. She was in trouble, she thought.

"I miss her too. What did she say in the dream?"

"She said she was never coming back," she said.

"Bianca, mommy is coming back, but we just don't know when. She's studying, remember?"

Bianca clung to Charles's neck, burying herself into it. He glanced at Liza, and she pointed towards the door.

"I should -" she mouthed.

"Wait - " he whispered.

"Bianca," he said. "Liza is going home now. Can we say goodbye, and then I'll tuck you in?"

Bianca smiled. "Can you read me two stories?"

"I will read you as many stories as you want, love," he said. She jumped off his lap and then ran to hug Liza, who was just standing up.

"Good night Liza," she said. "Will you come back soon to babysit?"

"I uh - I would be happy to," she said.

"You can hang out with daddy after," Bianca replied - and Liza and Charles both looked at each other, guilty.

"Oh, I, I would like that," Liza said, overstepping, she thought, but she was tired and why not?

"Here -," Charles said, too quickly, and gave her his cell phone. "Put your address in and I'll get you an Uber."

He walked with her downstairs while they wait. It would arrive in 5 minutes, but Liza wished it would take longer.

"I'm, I'm sorry for that upstairs," he said. "She's been waking up a few nights a week with dreams like that. Sometimes she comes into my bed and - I don't even know how hard this is on them, and every night I just ... I don't know if I'm ever doing the right thing."

"You're a great dad, I can tell," Liza said.

Charles's face dropped as he looked at her. "Thank you, Liza. That means a lot, really," he said.

"I know when you're a parent you think everything you do is wrong. And then you're thrown into a situation like this, I'm sure you felt completely blindsided by your wife. And questioned everything. But you had to ... keep it all together for the girls," she said. "You're doing a great job."

Charles - still wearing half of his tux, and smelling faintly of whiskey - rushed in to hug Liza.

"Thank you," he whispered

Liza's phone buzzed as the Uber pulled up.

"My ride's here," she said, and they pulled away.

"Oh, right, well - uh, get home safe," Charles said.

Liza got into the backseat of the Uber and smiled the whole ride back to Brooklyn.


	2. Chocolate Chip Cookies

"You're not too old for babysitting?," Josh asked Liza, who sat across him at a bar in Manhattan, where he met her for a drink before her second gig watching Bianca and Nicole.

Oh, he ha d no idea, she thought.

"I like it, and I'm sure it gives me brownie points at work . Plus, I could use the cash," she said.

Her first gig ended with her breathing deep into the chest of her boss's boss and nearly falling apart when he whispered thanks into her ear. And she'd thought about it too many times since.

The day after at work Charles called her into his office. When the door closed he handed her cash, $75 — more than she'd ever made babysitting — and apologized profusely.

"I'm so sorry I forgot to pay you last night," he said. "And for keeping you so late, and ... talking your ear off ."

"It's fine, really," she said. "I had a great time."

"I'm glad," he said. "I - we - loved having you at the house. The girls talked about you all during breakfast. You are now their favorite babysitter!"

"I'll add it to my resume," she said, and they both laughed.

"I..I don't want to monopolize your time , and don't feel obligated, but are you free on Friday night?," he asked.

For a split second Liza thought of something else.

"To babysit," Charles said. "I have this, thing, that my friend Bob invited me to and I'd usually say no but...I mean the girls , they like you so much, and I don't want you to just say yes because you work here and —"

"— I'd love to," she said.

"I will pay you before I leave, so I don't forget," he said. "Can you be there around 7?"

Josh walked her to the corner and kissed her deeply.

"Let me pick you up after at least?" he asked.

"You don't have to come all the way back into the city..." she said. "I'll take a cab right to you when I'm done, ok?"

"Ok, babysitter," he said, and she walked down to the large brownstone.

She rang the doorbell and was surprised when Charles answered the door moments later. Like he had been anticipating her right at 6:58.

"Hi!," he said. He was the most casual she'd ever seen him, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt.

"Thanks again for coming ," he said , and she followed him up the stairs.

"Liza!," Nicole and Bianca ran over to her, each hugging a different side . "Liza, can we bake cookies?"

" - can we play Polly Pocket?"

" - Bianca, no, I want Liza to paint with me - "

"Ok, ok, settle down girls," Charles said. "You'll have a few hours with Liza and will get to do everything you want. Don't pull her in too many directions."

Charles grabbed his jacket and a bottle of wine from a rack near the dining room table.

"Ok, promise you'll be good?," he asked.

"We promise, daddy," they replied. They ran over to him for a hug, and he bent down so he was closer to their height.

"Liza," he said, walking towards her and grabbing money from his pocket. "So I don't forget this time."

Charles rang the doorbell to Bob and Julia's apartment and when Julia answered with a look, he had a bad feeling. They told him it was a casual dinner, and he brought a bottle of wine.

But when he stepped inside he saw only four seats at the dining room table, with a woman he'd never seen before sitting down.

"Charles!," Bob said, almost too happily. "Charles, we are so happy you could make it. Julie brought a friend from work tonight, too. Why don't you come say hi..."

He suddenly wished he'd never said yes and was back at his house with the girls. That he was back at his house with Liza.

Oh, he thought. He acknowledged it for the first time to himself right there, at least explicitly, on a forced double date at his best friend's apartment. This, he thought, was going to be a long dinner.

Two hours later Charles came slowly up the stairs to his apartment.

Liza was in the kitchen, wiping down the counter next to the fresh-baked cookies she made with the girls.

"Oh — you don't have to do that," he said. "Leave whatever mess is there. I can clean up."

"How was your — "

"— dinner," he said. "It was, fine. I don't know what it was exactly."

Liza gave him a look. Charles hesitantly walked around the counter to take a seat on one of the stools next to it.

"It felt like a blind date. Julia — Bob's wife — invited a friend from work. This really nice woman named Jennifer," he said.

"Bob and Julia mean well, but I also don't know if they really get it. I sent divorce papers to Pauline. I haven't gotten them back. I also haven't talked to her. Should I be dating? I didn't think I should. Do I want to? Aren't I still married?"

Liza — fighting off a brief pang of jealousy but also not sure at first what else to do — put two cookies on a plate and slid it over to Charles.

He laughed.

"This I understand," he said. "But all that, I don't. "

He stared at the plate of cookies and then back up to Liza. He wasn't drunk, not by a longshot. He wished he was.

" I...I probably shouldn't be talking about this," he said. "With you."

"It's fine," she said. "I haven't gone through what you're going through." (Not exactly, of course; she would have loved if David disappeared for a few months.)

"But I've been through big changes and I don't know if I could have survived without a friend to talk to," she said. Were they friends? This is what friends talked about, right? Friends shared cookies.

"Yea," he said , and took a bite of a cookie.

"These are really good," he said. "The girls are really into baking lately. I can only cook so much."

"The secret ingredient is ... well, if I told you, it wouldn't be secret," Liza said, flirting a bit. She started wiping the counter down again and Charles grabbed her hand.

"Don't-" he said. "Really. You've been a big enough help here."

She put the towel down and then took a seat on a stool, sitting across now from Charles.

"Do you want to date again?," she asked.

Liza knew that there were lines being crossed right now. In her mind they were blurred, or she was now moving them a bit. But what was she doing, other than helping out a friend from work? What was the harm in conversation? In cookies?

"I don't know," he said.

Charles thought, too, that although he hadn't felt this calm and comfortable in years, there was something not right about it all. His employee - a very junior employee - sat across from him in his kitchen after he paid her to watch his daughters. He thought she was smart, funny, charming, beautiful. She was 26 years old and still he let himself, before he slept a few nights this week, imagine her living in his house.

But what was the harm in talking to a friend, he thought?

"I've been so caught up with dealing with her leaving and then focusing on the girls I haven't thought about life beyond it," he said.

"I get it," Liza said. The real her understood although I guess it was unlikely a 26-year-old would understand divorce. If Charles thought to question it, he didn't out loud.

"But it can be nice, dating. Sharing meals and stories and drinks with someone else."

Like they were doing right now, she thought.

"I haven't dated in 15 years," he said. "I don't even know how to do it."

"It's easier now than ever!," she said. "Tinder, Bumble, OK Cupid..."

"Are those memes?," he asked, honestly, and she laughed.

"Dating apps," she said. "You swipe and find love."

Charles laughed.

"I can't imagine meeting people on my phone," he said. "I'm old."

"You mean old-school," she said. "I don't use them either but Kelsey swears by them."

"I'd say Kelsey and I have different styles," he said, sighing.

"I'm not opposed to meeting someone, but I just - right now it's all about Nicole and Bianca. What they want, what makes them happy, who they like."

Liza understood completely, knowing the only way she felt free to date Josh was knowing Caitlin was taken care of and all the way in India.

"You don't have to date if you don't want to," she told Charles. "Sometimes things happen when you're not looking."

"Yea, I guess they do," he said.

Liza grabbed a cookie from his plate and took a bite, here eyes on Charles the whole time. Her phone buzzed just then; she grabbed it out of her pocket.

 _Josh: You headin' back to Brooklyn, babysitter?_

Liza sighed.

"I should go," she said.

"Oh, of course," he said. "Big Friday plans?"

"I'm meeting my ... boyfriend, I think," she said.

"Ah, of course," he said. "Well, here -"

He fumbled with his phone to pull up the app and told her put in the address.

"Are you sure -," she said.

" - Of course," Charles said. "You came all the way up here. I want you to get home safe."

Liza typed in the address of the East River Bar and handed the phone back to Charles.

"Six minutes," he said. "Here, take some cookies."

She laughed.

"Oh, no, these are all yours," she said. "Nicole insisted we make them for you."

"You know one of the hardest things about this has been the food," he said. "Here's a secret: Most of the time when I'm starting intently at my laptop at work, I'm not reading a manuscript but looking for easy dinner recipes."

"So now I know," Liza said. She walked towards the living room, where she'd kept her coat, and Charles followed her.

"Thank you again," he said. They walked downstairs and they stood in the doorway by the front steps, waiting for the cab. Neither of them knew they both wished the car would take longer. It arrived, as it said, in five minutes.

"Have a good night," he said, and closed the door.

She waited until she was over the Williamsburg Bridge before she texted Josh.

 _Liza: Meet me at East River Bar? XO._

She put her phone down and when it buzzed she was surprised to see who texted.

 _Charles: Thank you again. I had two more cookies since you left. And when I went in to check on the girls they asked for you. Have fun tonight. You earned it._

She clutched the phone to her heart as it turned towards the bar.

 _Liza: Since I now your cooking secret, it's only fair you know mine. The secret to the cookies is cinnamon in the batter._

She waited as the three dots appeared, showing he was typing from somewhere in that beautiful brownstone.

 _Charles: I guess neither of us is any good at keeping secrets._

 _Liza: I had a great time again. Good night, Charles._

"We're here," the cab driver told her. Josh was outside.

But Liza's brain was someplace else.


	3. Triple Crown

After babysitting twice in one week, Liza was surprised - happily - that she was still hearing from Charles. Not to ask to babysit again, but to simply say hi.

Or at least, to send along hellos from his daughters.

 _Charles: Bianca wanted me to show you this. She added extra chocolate chips this time and, she said, you secret ingredient._

Attached was a photo of Bianca smiling proudly, wearing an apron, and holding a tray of cookies.

A few Saturdays later, a day after she overheard Charles telling Diana that he was taking the girls on a weekend trip upstate, she got a text while she was on the couch at home.

It was a photo of Bianca and Nicole, wearing helmets and standing next to a horse.

 _Charles: The girls wanted me to send this - they said you told them you loved horses._

This was true. During her first time babysitting, Liza told them her favorite book as a kid was "Black Beauty" and how she begged her parents to sign her up for horseback riding lessons. She never got the chance - it was too expensive, her mom told her.

 _Liza: I do love horses, but I think I've mostly experienced them in books and at the track. (ha!) "Black Beauty" was my favorite book as a kid. And of course, "All the Pretty Horses" and"The Horse Whisperer."_

She had never ridden a horse, and actually the thought now of the track brought her back to a bad weekend in Saratoga, when David insisted they make a family trip of it and he bet their hotel money on a losing horse.

 _Charles: Don't forget "Secretariat." "The Black Stallion" series._

Now I'm just thinking of horse books to text, Charles thought to himself.

Liza, in Brooklyn, considered Googling "horse books" to keep the conversation going.

 _Liza: I think we've named every horse book._

Miles away, as his daughters trotted slowly around bails of hay, Charles howled with laughter.

 _Charles: I was about to start Googling "horse books."_

Now Liza laughed out loud, downstate.

 _Liza: Me too! How has the rest of your trip been?_

She tapped away and held the phone close to her face, waiting for a response.

 _Charles: It's been great! We're staying at a really nice b &b and we hiked and now the aforementioned horses. Tomorrow we may go to some small shops up here. It was really nice to get away. _

_Charles: How's your weekend?_

"What's got you so happy on that phone?," Maggie asked, walking over to the couch with two glasses of wine.

"I'm just talking to...Charles," she said, and made a face. She couldn't ever lie to Maggie, even if she tried.

"Your hot boss?"

"We're just talking about his daughters and ... horses," she said.

"Oh girl, do I even want to know?," Maggie asked

"It's all innocent," Liza said, taking a sip of the wine. "But I also know it's...not innocent."

"Sexting? Office hookups? Did he send you a dick pic?"

"Nooo, no no," Liza said. "I just - I like him, I like the girls, and when I talk to him I feel - 40 again. He's going through some stuff -"

"- Yea, his wife is MIA but he's rich and lives in a brownstone and he's texting with a hot assistant at his company, who he thinks is 26," Maggie said. "Where are his problems? You're his employee, not his therapist."

Liza shook her head.

"He's never been out of line," she said. "And rich people can have problems, cant they? Aren't friends supposed to listen?"

She had to partially agree with Maggie. She wondered if Charles really knew what it was like to struggle, to search for a job or to even consider something other than his family business.

"I don't doubt you're friends, but he's still your boss," Maggie said.

"Boss's boss," Liza corrected her, and then rolled her eyes.

"And what about, I dunno, your boyfriend?"

She knew the question was coming.

"I'm not doing anything wrong," she said. "We're just talking. And I'm just the babysitter!"

"You better watch yourself," she said. "Don't you watch TV? It's always the babysitter."

Liza's phone buzzed again. It was a photo of Bianca and Nicole, this time on horses.

 _Charles: My little jockeys. Watch out for them on the track soon._

Liza took a sip of her wine.

"It's just conversation," she said. Maggie rolled her eyes.

 _Liza: I'm sorry I didn't get to respond! My weekend is good. Relaxing with my roommate. They look like naturals - take them to Saratoga on the way home, maybe they can get a job! :)_

 _Charles: When they win the Triple Crown, it'll be all on you._


	4. Loneliness

Later that night, Charles and the girls ate dinner at a small restaurant. The girls were so tired from horseback riding they both fell asleep above the covers of their frilly B&B bed.

Charles delicately picked each of his daughters up and tucked them into bed, laying a kiss on their foreheads and making sure they were covered.

And then he quickly showered and changed and grabbed a manuscript he was trying to read and headed to his own bed across the room. The book was bad and he hoped with each page it would get better. A few hundred pages in, it hadn't.

He put the book down across his chest and sighed, watching it heave up and down.

This was what he hated the most since Pauline left. He was all alone with a few hours before he fell asleep. And the hours dragged on.

What Charles felt after everything, more so than betrayal and embarrassment and confusion, was loneliness.

When she left, he felt alone twice over; as a husband, as a father.

He didn't have a big family, and while he had friends - from Princeton, from publishing, from growing up in New York City - so much of his life with his daughters was tied to Pauline. Her family, her mom friends - the other women at school who, he knew, were now gossiping about his family nonstop.

He avoided them as best he could, mindful that he didn't want the girls' life to change all that much. Playdates were made and kept, but he wouldn't really engage. When they asked sympathetically, "So, have you heard from Pauline?" he would usually lie and say he had. Or try and change the subject.

But he was now suddenly navigating a whole new world and he realized quickly how unprepared he was for it all. He suddenly felt like he did in elementary school, when he was so shy he struggled to make friends. It always took him a while to connect with people, and he wished now he had a wider net of people to rely on.

Charles's best friend was probably Bob. But was he going to do, send Bob a photo of his girls? Talk to him about homework trouble? Ask him how to braid hair? They were business friends. He'd never found parenthood to be a subject that came up with his other friends, mostly men who, like Charles, left a lot of the parenting up to their wives.

How backwards it all was, he realized. In that realization he got a partial glimmer into why Pauline left and, when he thought about it, he felt awful.

Charles never fully immersed into fatherhood because he had work, and because he never really had to. Pauline was the one in charge of book reports, of permission slips, of breakfast, lunch and dinner. His role up until she left was the fun stuff - trips, bedtime stories, pillow forts, an Easter bunny costume, once, a few years ago.

He didn't think he was a bad father. But when it was suddenly just him he had to step up and be both parents. It stressed him out, and he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night just to remember he was still alone, and then he couldn't go back to sleep while he thought about what he'd forgotten to do the day before - forgot to pack a snack in Nicole's lunch bag, and she left her science textbook at home but he couldn't get it to her in time.

It was, at times, more than he thought he could handle.

He thought about getting a nanny, but it felt like just another change for the girls to get used to. He made do with their after-school babysitter - a high school girl from their block who was great with Nicole and Bianca and looked after them after school and some nights he worked late.

There were the two times she couldn't babysit. Two nights he ended talking to Liza, who the girls loved and who he loved talking to.

And he knew that was a problem. Since Pauline left, his daily rhythm left him with little time to think about his loneliness. But it snuck up on him most nights before he went to bed.

There were two times since Pauline left that sleep came easily to him: The nights he ended talking with Liza.

Over the last few weeks he'd been hung up over this thought:

How could he only feel comfortable talking to his 26-year-old employee, who he barely knew? Was he some creepy old man?

The girls did want to send those photos to her, he reminded himself. He didn't bring her up around them - but was very happy when they continued to talk about her. Liza Miller had left a big impression on the Brooks family, when they needed it the most.

He could go back and forth like this for hours, torturing himself for towing the line with a junior employee while reasoning that they were simply friends and it was harmless. In either scenario he got to think of Liza, so it was a win-win.

Sometimes the good things happen when you least expect them, he reminded himself. And then he went to sleep. 


	5. Birthday Cake

Liza worked a long day - too long - full of annoyances from Diana, and was anxious to get home when a large hand shot through the closing elevator doors to force them back open.

"Hold it -"

It was Charles, who looked flustered and in a hurry.

"Liza," he said. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that was you in here."

"It's me," she said a little nervous. "Just me."

It had been three week since their texts from his vacation. She'd barely seen him at work. And she felt silly initiating any texts with him because, well, that was his thing. Just passing along messages from the girls.

While they rode the elevator down Charles looked frantically at his phone and then rubbed his face.

"Are you ok?" Liza asked, as the elevator doors opened into the lobby. He sighed.

"It's Nicole's birthday tomorrow," he said. "And I think I already ruined it."

"Oh, no, I'm sure it's not -"

"Do you know how far in advance you have to order specialty cakes? Weeks, months - before your kid is born, probably," he said. "I should have put an order in after she was born. Nicole's only birthday request was a horse cake, and I stupidly thought I could just walk into a bakery and buy one."

"I think unicorns are more likely," Liza said, sympathetically.

Charles laughed.

"Oh, trust me, every bakery I called this afternoon tried to sell me on a unicorn. But Nicole specifically said, 'no unicorns.' She said she wants the real thing," he said.

"Oh -" Liza had that excited look she had when an idea popped into her head during a meeting. " - what about a cupcake cake? Or just cupcakes! With little horse photos printed out."

"Or horse stickers," Charles replied.

"Or a sheet cake! Pipe on some green frosting for grass, some plastic horses. Boom. Horse cake."

It was ridiculous, Charles thought, standing on a corner of Sixth Avenue having this conversation with Liza. He knew how stupid it sounded, how stupid HE sounded, but it was the most important thing in his life at this moment and somehow Liza seemed to recognize that.

"I don't think Nicole is going to care if the cake comes from a specific bakery," she said.

"I've never baked a cake," he said sheepishly.

"But you have a kitchen full of baking supplies and pans," Liza said. Charles looked at her.

"Pauline baked all the time," he said. "She baked all the girls' cakes, and this is the first birthday she's not here. And it's now -" he looked at his phone "- 6:15 and I don't have a cake."

"Charles, it's easy. Make it a sheet cake. Frost it. Buy some plastic horses -"

" - I bought her about 50 mini horses for her birthday," he said.

"Oh, so you are already halfway there," she said, and pointed to the Whole Foods across the street. "I'll even go to the supermarket with you and find the best frosting

Charles looked at her and his eyes widened.

"You would do that?," he asked.

"Of course," Liza said.

That was how Liza found herself in the cake aisle on the second floor of supermarket, holding up two different boxes of cake mix.

"Is she a vanilla or a chocolate fan?," she asked.

"Chocolate," Charles, who was holding a container of brown sprinkles, said.

"We can get white frosting and I can fill in some of the bottom with these sprinkles, for dirt," he said.

The word "we" hit with Liza. She had suggested he make a cake and offered to shop with him and went along with it all like she would go home and bake it with him. A part of her also imagined going back and baking the cake with him. In the back of her mind she heard Maggie's voice: "You can't be playing house with the guy."

"Uh, by we I mean 'I,' of course," Charles said. He noticed it too.

She put two boxes of the cake mix in the small basket she was holding, placing it next to the tub of vanilla frosting and the smaller tube of green icing.

"I think the dirt sprinkles are a good idea," Liza said.

"Thank you for doing this," he said, as they began walking towards the escalator. "I'm - I'm sure it seems silly."

"It's not silly," Liza said. "Cakes are important, especially to a 9-year-old girl. I used to bake - I mean, I used to demand the same cake every year for my birthday. Funfetti, chocolate frosting, rainbow sprinkles. The same cake topper."

"Demanding," he joked. "You sound like Nicole."

"She just really knows what she wants," she said.

"And I've been trying to make sure she and Bianca get everything they want and keep things as normal as possible through all of this. I'm really starting to realize how little I know about...everything, it seems like."

"That's parenting," she said. "Or, so I assume."

Hours later, Liza was still up after midnight reading a manuscript from the slush pile when her phone buzzed.

It was a photo of a large cake, covered with small strips of green icing piped up to look like grass. There were too many plastic horses scattered around - some white, some black, some with brown spots. In the background of the photos were piles of dirty bowls, batter dripping down.

Along the front, in pink frosting, Charles had written "Happy Birthday Nicole!"

 _Charles: Here it is, in all its glory._

 _Liza: Where'd you get that pink icing?_

 _Charles: I figured out that red food coloring added to some leftover vanilla frosting makes pink. And then I watched a YouTube video that taught me how to pipe it into a bag._

 _Liza: I am impressed. That is exquisite grass piping. Excellent horse placement. I give it a 9 out of 10._

 _Charles: Tomorrow the cake will face its toughest critic - I hope she gives me as high a score. Thank you, Liza. You saved the day again._

Liza saw the three dots of typing text.

 _Charles: I'm playing hooky tomorrow to surprise the girls - shhh. So I'll see you in a few days._

Hours later Diana lead the 9:30 meeting. Charles, she said, was under the weather - and Liza smiled to herself, relishing in knowing something her boss didn't.

It also gave her a good excuse to text Charles.

 _Liza: Hope you're feeling better, cough cough. Diana just said you were sick. I hope you enjoy your well-earned day off. When the boss takes off, is it still hooky? Wish Nicole a happy birthday for me._

A few moments later a photo popped up of Charles, Bianca and Nicole - a selfie of the three of them in some small diner eating breakfast. All three of them wore birthday hats, and Charles looked ridiculous. But also adorable.

 _Charles: I miraculously recovered after driving an hour upstate to enjoy the country air and hang out up in Pound Ridge. We have a house here but we haven't been in a while. Nicole was very surprised and still hasn't even seen the cake, which I snuck in the trunk, surrounded by blankets so it wouldn't knock around. I'll be back tomorrow. Don't let Diana take over while I'm gone._

Liza laughed, too loud, in the meeting.

"What's so funny, Liza?" Diana asked.

"Oh, it's just a - it's a meme," she said. "Sorry."

The next day Charles returned, smiling at her as he walked past her cubicle. A few minutes later he texted her to come by his office.

"I don't know if it's stale by now," he said. "But here."

It was a piece of the cake in Tupperware, a little battered, with some of the cake's green icing on the cover.

"You had as much a hand in it as me, and I thought you should at least try it," he said.

"Charles, this is so - sweet," she said, and he looked away from her briefly.

"Here - this is a lot for just one person. Take some," she said.

Charles pulled out a paper plate from a desk drawer - remarking that he tried to hoard some from office parties - and Liza cut him off half. He took a bite.

"This is good," she said after she took a bite. "I'm sure Nicole loved it."

"She did!," he said.

"Did you have a full party, or - "

"We just had something small - the three of us," Charles said. "I think everything has made Nicole a bit more reserved at school."

"Oh?," Liza asked.

"Her friends know about her mom," he said. "Other parents talk. They ask questions. I asked if she wanted a big birthday party this year and she said she didn't want to have anyone over, or bring any of her friends to the park or the movies. I didn't want to push it."

"Well, kids can be cruel," Liza said. "Or at least, not cruel, but not terribly understanding."

"Adults aren't that understanding either," he said. "Well, some are."

"Does she have a lot of friends?," Liza asked, silently reliving the drama she went through as Caitlin navigated friendship as a girl, tween and teen. Girls could be particularly mean.

"Is it terrible I never really knew much about her friends before?," he asked.

"But I've been learning. There's Emma, who has tried to tell Nicole that playing with Polly Pocket is for babies. Sydney, who told Nicole she should start wearing makeup. There are some nice friends, but - were girls always this adult at 9?," he asked.

It had been a long time since she was 9, even longer than Charles thought. But Caitlin was 9 just a decade ago and it felt fresh.

"Oh, you have no idea," Liza said. "It's worse now with the internet, too. Worse at least than when I was a kid."

Charles looked at her, a bit perplexed.

"You didn't have the internet when you were a kid?," he asked. Oh fuck, Liza thought.

"I mean, I did," she said. "I just didn't have it at home. My parents were...poor. And strict."

"It was probably for the best," Charles said, thankfully oblivious.

"What were — what were you like as a kid?," he asked, out of nowhere but also making complete sense. She had wanted to ask it. She wondered. Now she could.

"I was — like this," she said, and laughed. "I loved books and kept to myself. I was an only child so I remember being alone a lot. Books, TV, they kept me company. I always had a very active imagination."

Charles smiled wide.

"I know what that's like," he said. "Although I mostly stuck to comic books."

"Your dad owned a publishing company and you —"

"I know, I know," he said. "This was my rebellion. But at night I would read, secretly."

"Were you a flashlight under the covers guy?"

"I actually had a headlamp from a short stint as a Boy Scout," he said. "Very cool."

"Oh, very," she said.

"She just really knows what she wants," she said. /div

"And I've been trying to make sure she and Bianca get everything they want and keep things as normal as possible through all of this. I'm really starting to realize how little I know about...everything, it seems like."

"That's parenthood," Liza said, because she knew. "Or, so I assume.

"What were — what were you like as a kid?," he asked, out of nowhere but also making complete sense. She had wanted to ask him the same thing. She wondered about a young Charles Brooks. Now she would know.

"I was — like this," she said, and laughed. "I loved books and kept to myself and had friends but was alone a lot. I was an only child. My parents worked. Books, TV, they kept me company. I always had a very active imagination."

Charles smiled wide

"I know what that's like," he said. "Although I mostly stuck to comic books."

"Your dad owned a publishing company and you —"

"I know, I know," he said. "This was my rebellion. But at night I would read, secretly."/

"Were you a flashlight under the covers guy?"

"I actually had a headlamp from a short stint as a Boy Scout," he said. "Very cool."

"Oh, very," she said. "So since you rebelled by pretending to hate books, when did you know you wanted to work in publishing?"

"I never knew. It was known for me," he said. "I had to step in after my dad died."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Liza said. "What did you want to do?"

"Play baseball," he said. "Be a teacher. A firefighter. Anything else, really."

"But I'm not complaining, really. Books gave me my entire life," he said. "And Bianca and Nicole love books and don't feel the need to pretend they don't just to make me mad."

"You can always be a teacher," Liza said. "My dad was a gym teacher. You can trade your suit for a sweat suit."

Charles laughed. Just then Diana whizzed by the glass walls to the office, glaring at Liza.

"You should probably get back to your desk," he said

"Smart idea," she said. "Thank you again for the cake."


	6. Running

Most mornings since Pauline left, Charles woke up before the sun, put on running clothes and sneakers, and ran as far and fast as he could on the treadmill in his bedroom.

His wife had bought it years ago for herself and ran many mornings after Charles left for work, after the girls were at school.

A few weeks after she left, Charles found himself staring at the treadmill on one of those mornings he couldn't fall back to sleep. Should he get rid of it? His gym routine was at the New York Health and Racquet Club, meeting up with friends and publishing colleagues to work out but mostly socialize.

Once she left he didn't have any time to spend two hours at the gym, which was more talking than working out. His world was work and Nicole and Bianca.

So after staring at it, he changed into sweatpants and grabbed his sneakers from the front hallway, walking quietly back up the stairs so he wouldn't wake up the girls. It was maybe 5 or 5:30.

He turned on the machine and started running and running, pushing every thought he had with each stride on the treadmill. A few weeks of that every morning was what kept him sane, and he kept with it. He got faster and faster, faster than he was when he ran steadily in college.

He didn't really notice at first that his suits were too big.

Sometimes he'd forget to eat lunch. Some mornings he'd run for more than an hour.

"Are you losing weight?," Bob asked after he took his coat off at the bar. He'd invited him for a daytime drink, and Charles snuck away from the office to meet him.

"I guess I am," he said. "I started running again."

"Well, you look great," he said. "But are you dating yet?"

Charles knew it was coming and almost didn't go because he didn't want to talk about it.

"Jennifer asked Julia about you! She said you never called," he said. "She is a wonderful woman, really. What's the harm in one drink?"

"I don't know if I'm ready," Charles said.

"You'll never be totally ready," he said. "And it's just a date. Give me one good reason why you can't at least meet the woman."

Charles has plenty of reasons. He'd rather be home at night with his girls than making small talk with a stranger, for one. He was focused on work and his kids.

And Liza. There was Liza. Of course there was Liza, but what did it mean?

"I know you're still hung up on Pauline," Bob continued. The truth was, he wasn't. His love for her was replaced by anger and then there was nothing, really, in its place.

"I'm not hung up on her," he said. He meant it. She wasn't the reason he was reluctant to date, at least not anymore.

"Can I tell you something? I don't know what to make of it," Charles said. "And I want you to answer as my friend, not my lawyer."

Bob took a sip of his drink.

"I'll try to keep the two separate," he said.

"I think I have ... feelings for ... someone," Charles said, slowly.

"Charles, that's great! This all helps," Bob said. "Where did you meet her?"

Charles paused.

"At work."

"Oh, no —"

"— I know," he said.

"Is it Diana?," Bob asked, and Charles shook his head vigorously.

"No, no, no," he said. "It's her...assistant."

"The woman who babysat for you? Charles, you have to know this isn't good."

"I know," Charles said. "I know, I know. But, I can't explain it, but the first night she babysat we — we talked," he said. "That's it. We just talked and it was really nice. It was nicer than anything's been in a really long time."

Charles took his own drink then, letting the whiskey pour down and burn his throat.

"When I talk with her everything seems to make sense. I don't feel angry anymore," he said. "I can talk about the girls and she gets it."

"How old is she?," Bob asked.

"She's 26," he said. Bob gave Charles a look.

"She's nearly 20 years younger than you. I it just the talking that's got you going?"

He became angry at the idea of Bob thinking of Liza as just some hot young thing . It was much more than that.

"It's not that," he said. "She's beautiful. But she's smart and kind and - she doesn't seem 26... not that I know what 26 seems like anymore. She's great with the girls and she - listens."

"You really like this woman?," Bob asked.

"Do you ever just not want a conversation to end? I feel like I make up excuses just to talk to her," Charles said. "It's like she walked into my life and now I can't think of a time she wasn't in it."

"Charles, that's real," he said. "But you're vulnerable. And she's your employee."

Bob looked at Charles, who looked down at his drink.

"Look, there are a lot of women out there who are not your employees who I'm sure would love to go out with you and listen," he said. "I'm saying this to you as your friend, not your lawyer."

"Yes, but - "

"- At least try to meet other people. It's good for you, really," Bob said. "I don't see how dating your employee is any good, unless you marry her."

Charles circled his drink glass and shook his head.

"And maybe try to avoid having her in your house to babysit?"

The conversation upset Charles, it made him angry, but he also knew his friend was right. His head and his heart were so mixed up inside his body he felt like his skin was crawling.

Back at the office he politely waved at Liza, pushing back his instinct to ask her about the manuscript she was reading and try to see when she was at the coffee bar so he could walk over, too.

He walked briskly back to his office and closed the door. He sat back in his chair for a bit and called Jennifer, Julia's friend from work, leaving a voice message that to him sounded like a script.

 _It's Charles, Bob and Julia's friend from a few weeks ago. I'm so sorry for not getting in touch, work and home have been crazy. But if you're still interested, maybe we can grab a drink on Thursday or Friday? Hope to hear from you, Charles._

The next morning Charles was up before the sun and ran and ran and ran so hard the sweat dripped from his forehead, from his elbows, from the crooks of his knees. No matter how many miles he put on the machine, he couldn't forget.


	7. I Want to Know Everything About You

She noticed the way Charles avoided her in the office. The way he would dart his eyes when they met hers in the hallway or by the coffee.

And part of her thought it might actually be for the best. She found herself falling — and she knew it wasn't good.

So she instead refocused on work and on Caitlin and on Josh, although that was beginning to fade. She had told him her secret by now, after getting too drunk at the East River Bar. And he was so good about it she wanted to cry.

But then things got more serious on his end and she felt like they were suddenly traveling in different directions.

"Would you ever want to move to Costa Rica?," he asked one night as they lay in bed.

"Costa Rica?"

"Yea babe. Costa Rica. I'm just sick of New York and would love to be someplace warm," he said.

A few weeks later, when Liza was late, it set off a whole other type of thinking. Thankfully the pregnancy test came back negative, but Josh's reaction was not what she expected.

"You don't think you'll ever want more kids?," he asked.

"We could move someplace warm and raise a baby together."

Liza loved Josh in a way she didn't expect she would. He shook her and woke her from her old life. But she knew he wanted something she couldn't give him and loved him enough to let him know.

Two weeks later, they broke up and she found herself on the couch with Maggie going over it all.

"He cried," she said. "I cried. But I also feel OK."

She wrapped a blanket around herself and leaned into Maggie, he put her arm around her.

"Look, you were honest with him and I think you did the right thing," she told Liza.

"Am I destined to be alone?," Liza asked; Maggie laughed.

She met Maggie in her first year of working at Random House after college. She was dating David then, but her friendship with Maggie - who was the polar opposite of the shy, suburban girl trying to make it big in New York publishing - was just as significant, maybe more so.

Maggie always hated David, and when he shocked her with a proposal, with a tiny ring, she warned her friend against it.

"You're only 21!," she said. "You have your whole entire life ahead of you. Think of all the guys you haven't fucked."

Liza then was in love, blinded by it. And she was afraid, for some reason, to be on her own. Then came Caitlin and her mess of a marriage and she was now right back with Maggie, back in New York and in publishing again. Back where she started, and with the same fear.

"Sweetie, you are, right now, better off alone," Maggie told her. "Go out, have with your boss - just don't get in trouble."

Liza playfully slapped her.

"He's not speaking to me either," she said, which got Maggie interested.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened," she said. "I have thought about it and thought about it and have come to the conclusion that I did nothing wrong. I wasn't crazy - there was something there on his end. Maybe he just turned cold on me."

"Maybe he's playing hard to get," Maggie said. "I guess it's better he's not asking you to babysit for him. Although you miss out on that sexual tension that I'm totally in favor of now that you're single. Especially since he still thinks you're a hot 26 year old and not a hot 40 year old."

Liza laughed.

"I think my babysitting days are over," she said. "I'll have to settle for quick glances in the elevator."

"Liza!," Diana called for her and she came running into her office. "Coffee!"

It had been weeks and weeks now since Charles started avoiding her.

He sat on the couch and looked up only briefly at her when she came rushing in with a hot cup. She put it down and Diana threw a stack of books towards her — her job was to shelve them in the order Diana liked.

"Oh and Charles, don't forget there's that dinner at Simon & Schuster tonight, the annual 'let's pretend we are cordial colleagues and not competitors' meal," she said.

"Tonight?", Charles said. "Oh, I can't tonight."

"Excuse me?," she said. "This is a must-attend event."

"Well uh, my usual babysitter has the flu," he said. "She texted me this morning. I have to leave early, actually, to get the girls."

"Charles, are you being ridiculous on purpose?," Diana said. "You're using the babysitter excuse when your OTHER babysitter — who would be foolish to say no — is standing right here in my office?"

Liza and Charles looked at each other quickly.

"No, no, really, it's fine," Charles said. "I can skip."

"You CANNOT skip," she said. "Liza, be at Charles' house st 6:00. Since you and your boyfriend broke up I'm sure you're free."

It was decided then.

"Millennials love sharing their personal problems with their bosses," Diana joked. "Then we get to use it against them."

Liza rang the doorbell and Nicole flung the door wide open.

"She's here!" she yelled, throwing her arms around Liza's waist.

"Liza! Where have you been!" She asked.

"Oh, I've been busy with work!"

Bianca came running down the stairs and hugged Liza near their front door.

"We like our other babysitter but you're our favorite," she said.

They climbed the stairs and Liza spotted Charles, dressed in a dark navy suit, straightening his tie in the living room mirror.

"Liza," he said. "Thank you for doing this."

She wanted to ask him why he had been avoiding her, but instead she just quickly took in the sight of him. He smiled.

"Uh, I should be back in a little bit," he said. "Their usual babysitter is sick and - well, you heard - I couldn't really get out of this."

Bianca came running past them and grabbed one of Charles's legs.

"Liza, daddy made dinner!," she said. "He told us to leave some for you."

"Uh, since it's - well it's closer to dinnertime now," he said. Liza hadn't eaten; she'd come to his house straight from work.

It was totally normal for someone to leave dinner for their babysitter, she reminded herself. She did not want to misread anything, not after weeks of him avoiding her.

"Ok, Nicole, Bianca - I'm leaving now. Will you be good?," he asked his daughters. They each gave him a hug and then ran up the stairs.

"Liza! Meet us up Bianca's playroom," Nicole said. "We have new toys to show you! Bye daddy!"

Charles was getting his coat on and Liza felt like she wanted to run upstairs, more comfortable with his daughters than him right now.

She started to walk up when he said, "Wait."

She turned around and stepped back down.

"Here, for tonight," he said, handing her cash.

"I'm sorry Diana pushed this on you," he said. "I - I was sort of looking for an excuse to not go tonight." He laughed.

"It's ok," Liza said. "I'm happy to see the girls again." And she was happy to see them. She also was feeling bold.

"It's just, I hadn't - heard from you in a bit," she said. "How has everything been?"

Charles looked away briefly, fiddling with the scarf he put around his neck.

"Things have been - good," he said. "I should get going to this before I miss the first course."

"Oh, yes, get going," Liza said.

Charles sat next to Liza at the dinner, filled with other publishing stiffs like him, and he felt terrible with the way he was at the house. He was cold, cold on purpose, and that was no way to treat a - friend, he told himself.

He went out with Jennifer two times after Bob prodded him. A drink one early evening, and then, lunch on a Sunday when both girls had playdates with friends.

She was perfectly lovely and interested and friendly. She worked at the same non-profit as Julia and they talked about that, and he talked a little bit about his job. She asked about Bianca and Nicole a bit. They talked a little about books.

His only criticism: She wasn't Liza. Dumb, stupid, but perfectly reasonable reason.

At the dinner, Diana leaned in too close to him and he just wanted to go home. The thing with Diana was, he respected her and trusted her and cared about her, but never was attracted to her - although he knew she was attracted to him. It made things awkward sometimes but he mostly ignored it.

His phone buzzed at the dinner; it was a photo of the girls dressed in old Halloween costumes, hold swords made out of cardboard and tin foil.

 _Liza: They wanted to put on a play, and they dug up these. The writing and rehearsal is now complete, and the grand performance will begin shortly._

Quickly after:

 _Liza: Nicole asked that I send this along._

Charles smiled, and absentmindedly showed Diana the photo.

"Liza is really so great with kids," he told her. Diana frowned.

"Oh, who wouldn't be, with such angels like your daughters?," she said, a bit forced.

 _Charles: They look like they're having a lot of fun with you. Thank you again._

And then, after a moment -

 _Charles: You are very good with them. I know they missed you._

It was a loaded thing to say, he knew that, but he didn't know what else to say.

 _Liza: I missed them, too._

They both knew what they were saying, coded in the safe cover they had fallen into.

 _Charles: Can you stay a little bit after I come back tonight?_

 _Liza: Sure._

The next hour and a half of the dinner dragged on and on.

"Oh Charles, they're about to serve dessert," Diana said. "This is my chance to rub it in the face of Rita at HarperCollins that her latest book was a flop."

Once Diana got up to leave, Charles got up, too. He told the table he had to head home and to tell Diana it was a family thing.

He hopped in a cab and headed up to his house.

It was after 10 once he got home, and Liza was on the couch, reading.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi, she said.

"How were they the rest of the night?," he asked.

"They were fantastic, really," she said. "We played and then they started talking about plays so we ended up working on one together. It wore them out, they fell asleep fast. How was the dinner?"

"Boring," he said, and laughed. "The usual."

"Was the food any good?," she asked, and Charles shook his head.

"No spaghetti and meatballs," he said. That was what he cooked, which Liza admitted to herself was pretty good (although not as good as Maggie's.)

He sat down in the chair in the living room and Liza followed him, taking a seat on the couch.

"Look - I wanted to talk to you," he said. "I know you asked - and yes, I haven't really been in touch. I - have been avoiding you." He just dropped it there, in the middle of the living room.

"I'm trying to be more open and honest in my life," he said. "And the truth is I really like you, and I consider you a friend, but I was afraid of the implications of all that because I am your boss."

"The implications of being friends?," she asked.

He looked at her. She looked at him. They didn't have to say it.

"Do you ever just never want a conversation to end?"

He said it again, like he had with Bob, to both avoid the question and answer it.

"I know what you mean," Liza said.

"We're friends," she said. "I think that's OK even if you're my boss."

"Sometimes I wish I weren't your boss," he said. "Uh, not that you're not a good employee, but - "

"- I get what you mean," she said.

"Charles, I think you're wonderful. I enjoy talking to you and spending time with you. I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"I'm your boss," he said.

"My boss's boss, technically," Liza said.

"Even better," Charles said. She laughed.

"I want to talk to you and listen to you and …know more about you," he said. "If that isn't too forward."

Liza could feel the way Charles was trying to keep his distance from her, emotionally and physically.

He breathed deeply and she could feel how nervous he was. She felt nervous, too. If she crossed the chasm they created there was no turning back. She would eventually have to tell him everything she'd spent the last year pretending.

"Charles," she said. "If you're thinking I feel uncomfortable because of your position — I don't. I know it's all very complicated. But it doesn't have to be."

Charles sat in silence and Liza decided then to cross the divide.

"Here," she said. "Come sit next to me."

Charles got up then and sat close to Liza on the royal blue couch. He looked at her with his deep blue eyes that looked this close like they were sparking.

Liza grabbed his hand and cupped his face with her other hand.

"I want to know everything about you," she said.

And then he leaned in to kiss her, slowly at first and then deeper when she leaned fully into him.

Liza knew that, at some point sooner than she wanted, she would have to tell him her own everything.

For now she was content in breathing all of him in.


	8. I Want to Tell You Everything

"Wait," she said, as her hands stopped roaming the buttons on Charles's shirt. "We shouldn't."

Liza was straddling Charles, who was nearly flat on the couch. It was a sight. He was too tall for it and his legs hung off.

He was out of breath and his lips looked swollen. At some point as they made out like teenagers she had pulled his shirt tails out of his suit pants. Charles had ripped off her sweater, grabbing at her through her skintight tank top.

"You're right," he said sighing into her neck. She could feel him hard through his pants and he tried to re-adjust himself on the couch.

"I don't think it's the best idea to do this when they're... upstairs," she said. Charles smiled.

"You moved first," he said, and she laughed at him.

They looked at each other and then Charles started laughing, flashing a stupid grin.

"What time is it?," she asked.

Charles checked his phone.

"It's after 11," he said. "I can call you a car."

Liza looked at him, knowing she could either tell him now or continue lying, quietly, as they set out on whatever they were going to do.

"Don't," she said, grabbing her sweater from the floor and putting it on.

Charles looked at her, perplexed.

"I know there's really no going back from this," she said. "If you were a bad kisser I'd be fine forgetting about it."

"You don't want to forget about it," he said.

"I'd like to keep… doing it," she said. "But I need to be upfront with you."

She stood up and walked to the bar and poured two glasses, handing him one.

Liza spent the last 20 years of her life being partially dishonest with a lot of people, but mostly herself. She lied when she said she was happy. She lied when she said she didn't miss working in publishing, that being a stay at home mom was just as fulfilling.

How are you?, some friends would ask. I'm great!, she'd lie.

How different would her life has been if she had always been as honest as possible?

"I've been lying to you," she said.

She might as well start now.

"I'm not 26," she said.

"What are you saying?" Charles asked.

"I lied," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I lied when I applied for the job at Empirical because I couldn't get hired as a 40-year-old who's been out of the business for years and getting a divorce and find a way take care of my daughter."

Charles was silent. He looked at his drink. He stayed silent for what felt like hours.

"Charles -"

"- You have a daughter?," he asked.

Liza walked over to her bag, pulled out her cell phone, and pulled up the most recent photo of Caitlin.

"Her name is Caitlin," Liza said. "She's in India studying abroad."

Charles took the phone and stared back at Caitlin's photo.

"You have a daughter."

Of all the things she told him, she didn't think that would leave him dumbfounded.

"I did this all for her," Liza said. "I wish I didn't have to - "

" - Lie," Charles finished for her. He didn't seem mad, but bewildered.

"Why did you lie?"

Liza almost became angry at the question. What would Charles, who took over his father's company, know about looking for work?

But she could see in his eyes then that he wasn't judging. He was curious.

"I couldn't get a job," she said. "I went on a dozen interviews; all the same. One told me, straight to my face, that they didn't think my age would be a good fit in the culture of the office.

And then I met my ex-boyfriend and he thought I was his age and my roommate had the bright idea that I should just simply say I was - 26."

"Who else knows?," Charles asked.

Liza sat down.

"My ex. My roommate."

"Kelsey?"

Liza shook her head.

"I have wanted to tell her a million times, but now - "

"- Millennial," he said, reading her mind. The silence followed. Liza filled it.

"I had to tell you all of this so I would feel comfortable moving forward with...whatever," she said.

"Charles, I care about you. I don't want to lie to you. And after what just happened I really didn't want to keep lying to you."

"I see," he said, slowly.

"This is - a lot," he said. "But I've been trying - I think my whole life but really, since Pauline left me - to try and understand people better. Where they're coming from, who they are."

He looked down at the floor. The carpet was multicolored, with pops of blue and white; Pauline picked out the rug and he told her he didn't mind what she bought, but he secretly hated it and he remembered the way he picked a fight over it with her. How he said cruel things and didn't realize why she would get so upset.

"I don't know what it's like to need a job," he said. "I've had my life handed to me. Liza, you are brilliant and energetic and smart and creative. I am sorry that you had to lie to get back into this business but in a way I'm glad you did, because it introduced me to you."

"You did what you had to do," he said. "I've never been in a position like that. But now I need to figure out what to do with all of this."

"I can come clean," she said.

"Millennial," he said. "I don't know how that would go over."

"I can quit," she said, and he shook his head.

"You need the job," he said. "We need you."

"Charles, I know I've complicated things," she said.

"I don't mind complicated," he said.

"Your company probably does," he said.

"Liza - we can figure it out," he said. "I think we should keep this between us, for as long as we can."

"And what about the ... other thing," Liza asked, and moved closer into him. She leaned in and kissed him, delicately.

"What if we ... kept this up," he said. "But ...quietly."

"Illicitly?," she asked.

"It could give us a little bit of time to figure things out," he said.

"How would it work?," she asked. "I'm the babysitter."

"The fill-in babysitter," he said. "How do divorced parents who work together usually do this?"

"They sneak around," she said, laughing. "They text. They call. Maybe she meets him before work for coffee. Or he comes out to Brooklyn after a while to meet her best friend and roommate."

Charles smiled.

"He could send her flowers," he said, softly grabbing her hand. "He can listen to everything about her life, her real life. About her daughter."

Liza, then, yawned - not on purpose, but because the day finally caught up to her.

"He can call her a car home," he said. He pulled Liza into a hug then, strong and deep, and Liza - feeling as comfortable with anyone as she had in a long time - buried her face into his chest.

"What are we getting ourselves into?," she asked.

"Let's find out," he said.


	9. The Bubble

_Charles: Hi._

The text came as Liza was leaving her apartment for work, and she smiled.

 _Liza: Hey._

That was what they had done the last two weeks, since they kissed and she spilled her guts to him about the secret she spent the last year keeping.

They would text all day and night, and a few nights a week he'd call her and they would dive right into a conversation — in childhood, on their marriages, on what they were scared of — as soon as he said "hi."

 _Charles: Do you want to meet before work?_

A few times before work they'd met up at a coffee shop away from the office, just to be near each other without restriction. No make-outs, no hand holding, but just sitting across from each other was nicer than texts and calls.

Then they'd often go different ways down the block, arriving to work around the same time but not together. Liza had to admit it was sort of sexy, the running around. She let go of one secret for another, but this one was more fun.

This morning they decided to meet by Union Square — right off the subway for Liza and far from work.

"Charles, although I have thoroughly enjoyed our coffee dates and texts and calls," she said. "I think we should bring this to the next level."

"Lunch?," he said.

"My roommate is away the next few days," she said, sort of whispering. "She's going to an artists' retreat. You should...stop by this weekend. Whichever day works best."

Then she smirked at him.

"My roommates," he said, smiling, "have an all-day carnival at their school on Saturday. I can drop them off, and then their babysitter can pick them up, so there's more...time."

"And then you can come to Brooklyn," she said. "Has fancy Charles Brooks ever crossed the river into Brooklyn?"

She loved teasing him because he didn't mind it; he seemed to enjoy laughing at his big brownstone and his prep school upbringing.

"You know I've read about Brooklyn in the newspaper," he said. "A few books. But it will be nice to see it a bit. Explore. Although I think this time I'd rather spend as much time inside as possible."

Just before noon on Saturday, Liza was in her apartment, panicking. She cleaned as much as she could, showered twice, changed clothes at least three times.

He texted he was on his way.

She answered the door and he stood there, dressed in casual clothes and holding a large bouquet of bright red dahlias - the flowers she told him, during on of their long phone calls, were her favorites.

"Hi," he said. She leaned in to kiss him.

"Hey," she said.

"I took the subway," he said, and Liza's jaw dropped.

"The subway!," she said, in fake shock. "Did you get there by mistake?"

"I take the subway," he said. "And for the record, I've been to Brooklyn. I lived here, in fact. Before there was a boutique avocado shop on every corner."

"You did?,"

"After college. I lived up on 3rd and Berry for a few years with friends," he said.

"I didn't know that about you," she said. "Maybe we crossed paths in the 90s."

"I hope we didn't," he said. "Then I'd be kicking myself for not kissing you then."

He Kissed her quickly and then handed her the flowers.

She took his coat and then walked over to find a vase.

It felt very domestic, she thought, considering they both knew they were there for really thing.

"So this is your place," he said. "When did you move in?"

"Let's see," she said. "My ex and I — David — we had to sell our house in Jersey because, well, he had a tiny gambling project. And divorces are expensive."

Charles sat down at the kitchen island where Liza stood putting flowers in the vase, as she tried to summarize the last year and a half of her life — which looked vastly different than the 20 years before.

"Maggie took me in, like she's been doing since I met her at 21," she said.

"When I moved in here, I was a mess. No job, Caitlin thousands of miles away. But I also felt free for the first time in a long time."

"What made you want to come back to New York?," he asked.

"The free apartment," she said. "But also — it's New York. It's where I wanted to start my life after college and where I wanted to restart it now."

Charles looked around at the art, admiring it.

"This all your roommate?"

"Every piece," Liza said. "She's amazing. Talented and tough and creative."

"I'd love to meet her," he said. "Since you're already acquainted with the two most important people in my life."

"Of course," she said.

They stared at each other for a while just grinning.

Each of them couldn't believe they were there.

"So," Liza said, taking a sip of wine. "What's the deal with this carnival?"

"I dropped them off and did a lap. Impressive stuff. They'll stay there a few hours and then the babysitter will pick them up," he said.

"I told her I'd be back at 6," he added. It was just after noon.

"That's a lot of time to see Brooklyn," she said.

"I just want to see you," he said, and pulled her close.

It started slow. They kissed in the kitchen and then Liza suggested they move to the living room, where they made out frantically, desperately again like the first time.

"Should we —" Liza started.

"— maybe the bedroom," he said.

And in there Charles took the lead, slowly and deliberately. As he undressed her stopped and kissed her neck.

"You are so beautiful," he said.

They had both imagined it, although they would never admit it. After they were finished for the first time a wave of relief washed over Liza and Charles, a feeling of comfort and tenderness and satisfaction.

Charles wrapped himself up in Liza and rubbed her back.

She turned to face him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi," he replied.

"Hopefully the girls will have a carnival every weekend," she said, and he laughed, kissing her and stroking her hair.

"Not a weekly carnival, no," he said. "But I can — figure something out. I think."

"You think," Liza said.

"How do people do this?," he asked, seriously.

"Do this? You seem to have a pretty good idea," she said. He smiled.

"I mean date. As a suddenly single parent," he said.

"I don't know," she said. "My kid is old and far, far away. She doesn't need me anymore. But I think it just takes juggling. Compromise. Communication."

"So like regular dating, then," he said. "Or any relationship."

"Just with an added babysitter," Liza said, and kissed Charles on his shoulder.

"It's complicated. We're complicated. It's fine," she added. "Right now we're in a bubble. And we get to determine the terms and conditions and realities of that bubble."

"Oh?," Charles asked.

"First there is the illicit nature of our bubble's existence. Which we can acknowledge has an expiration date."

"But we can enjoy it before that expiration date," he said.

"The other reality is real life's relationship to that bubble. Your girls are your priority. This - " she said, pointing around, "- won't be able to happen as much as we would like."

"What are your terms?," Liza asked.

"Hmm," he said. "The first you said. And other than that? Honestly I -"

He paused.

"- Can you be patient with me?"

Liza laced her fingers through his and kissed him.

"Of course," she said.

"I'm figuring it all out. But you make the most sense to me," he said. He kissed her.

"Are you hungry?," she asked Charles. He nodded and she jumped out of bed, throwing on a robe. He followed, just putting his boxers and a t-shirt on.

In the kitchen she took out more wine, and leftovers Maggie had in the fridge, heating up large pieces of lasagna and sauce.

"Maggie is an amazing cook," she said. "I'm just a baker. It was a running joke with my ex — that I never learned to cook just to piss him off. I think deep down he was right."

"What was your — your marriage like?" He asked. "I'm sorry, that's a weird question.

"It isn't," she said. "David and I met in college and looking back the signs were all there. He was selfish, impulsive. But I was in love, and it really was love, as far as i know."

"Marriage is hard," he said. "Is he a good father?"

"He is," she said. "But like a lot of marriages I think I did most of the parenting."

The microwave buzzed, and Charles shot up.

"I'll get it," he said. "Sit. Please."

He grabbed the plate and brought it over to the kitchen island.

"I don't think I was the best husband," he said. "And I've been thinking about the ways I was selfish, and the mistakes I made, and I am trying not to make them again."

"Me too," Liza said, taking a bite of the lasagna. She looked at her phone.

"It's 3 p.m.," she said. "Eat up. We have a few more hours in the bubble."


	10. Oh, Darling, You Will Be Good to Me

_Charles: Did you finish it yet?_

 _Liza: I'm almost done with the chapter._

 _Charles: I put the girls to bed early and finished it. You have no excuse!_

It was like that a lot of nights - Charles and Liza texting or calling each other to talk about the book they were reading (together, but apart) or the TV show they were watching (together, but apart.)

It felt a little bit like a long distance relationship, with a river (and his girls and their job) in between them. Liza didn't mind.

She had a level of comfort with him that she didn't think she had with any man she was ever with.

David was needy, dragging her with him when he was down or leaning on her for everything.

Josh was high-energy, but frenetic, and everything felt like it could change.

But Charles was like a ring of calmness and warmth around her. It didn't mean he wasn't incredibly romantic. He could turn her on with a turn of a phrase, with a text. He was open and honest — which he openly and honestly admitted was new to him and something he was actively working on, for his sake, for her sake.

"For everybody's sake," he told her once, talking about the way he used to just shut down when things got too emotional.

 _Liza: I'll read it tonight. Promise._

 _Charles: So your birthday is coming up_

It was a week before her 41st birthday and she didn't want anything at all for it. Except Kelsey insisted on throwing her a birthday party — a 27th birthday party, since that was how old she still thought she was.

 _Liza: I'm in luck: I celebrate two birthdays again this year: 27 and 41_

 _Charles: Does that mean I'm dating two women at once?_

 _Liza: Which one would you like me to be the next time I see you?_

 _Charles: The real you, always_

The day before her birthday Kelsey and Lauren took her out with a few more friends, toasting to 27 with shots. Liza felt worse than usual, like a liar and a cheat, as she got deeper into it.

At midnight Kelsey got her another round.

"Girl, here's to 27!," she said, and Liza toasted and drank it fast, wincing at both the taste of it and the enthusiasm and love Kelsey had for her, who was lying to her about, well, everything.

A few minutes later she saw a text from Charles sent at 12:01.

 _Charles: Happy, happy birthday my beautiful Liza_

He added a birthday present emoji — Liza had recently taught him how to use emojis — and the heart-eyed one. It was silly enough to make her laugh and feel better, just temporarily. She was also surprised to see him texting so late. The two of them usually went to bed before 11.

 _Liza: This is past your bedtime, old man._

In the townhouse, in his bed, Charles laughed.

 _Charles: I was asleep and set my alarm! Talk to you tomorrow._

 _Liza: Goodnight sleepyhead. And thank you, for you._

"Who are you texting this late?," Kelsey asked, and Liza quickly put her phone in her bag.

"Just Maggie," she said, and Kelsey gave her a look.

"Oh please," she said. "You can't keep any secrets from me, Liza Miller."

Liza went home hours later, buzzed and feeling down, on her 41st — or 27th — birthday. How long could she keep it up?

The next morning she woke up a little hungover and Maggie was making coffee and toast.

"There's a delivery at the door," Maggie said.

Liza went out find a large bouquet of red and white dahlias in front of her door in the hallway.

Inside was a small card.

"To my caring, thoughtful, and intelligent Liza: "Let us never know what old age is." Happy birthday, however old you are, beautiful. Xo, Charles"

Liza, after reading the card, roared with laughter. She handed it to Maggie.

"He's good," Maggie said.

She called up Charles, who picked up on the third ring.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi," he said, and then, low and sexy, "Happy birthday, officially."

"These flowers are perfect," she said. "And your card - "

"- So you like the card? I was a little nervous. And since I won't be able to see you today I thought— ."

"It's funny," she said. "I need funny."

Liza sighed.

"Are you OK?," he asked.

"I feel terrible for lying to Kelsey," she said. "About my age. About us. About everything."

"Aw, Liza," he said. "Not on your birthday. Really. Don't think about all that today."

"She's a great friend and I'm here just lying to her," she said.

"Liza," he said. "You can tell her any time. And I think she'd understand. I mean that. But to feel bad about it today — when you should be celebrating how wonderful you are — is useless."

Liza realized she wanted nothing more than to hug him, even quickly, on her birthday.

"You should come by," she said. "Today. On my birthday."

"I have the girls," he said. "And it's probably too late to get their babysitter."

"Bring them," Liza said. "I mean it. Maggie's here. We can watch a movie — eat ice cream. Order pizza. Anything."

"Are you sure?," he said.

"I'm hungover and will be spending the whole day in my pajamas," she said. "But I also feel like I need to see your face in person. In the flesh. Maybe hold your hand under a blanket. So long as they don't notice I'm hungover."

"The girls have swim class in a little bit," he said. "But we can be over, after 1."

He sounded excited on the phone, but also nervous.

"What should I tell them?," he said, whispering. "Uh, about us. Or will they not even think about it?"

"Tell them we're friends - which are are - and that I'm having a birthday party," she said. "Which I am, technically. And you'll finally get to meet the infamous Maggie."

She glanced over at Maggie, who smiled.

"Ok!," he said. "What should I bring -"

"- Nothing. Just seeing you will be enough," she said.

Charles picked up the girls after swim class and as they drove south on the FDR Drive he told them they were going to see Liza.

"It's her birthday," he said. "She invited us over to help celebrate ."

"Is the having a party?," Bianca asked.

"Yes," he said. "A small party. Pizza, a movie." The girls squealed. Nicole, who was getting more mature by the day, looked at him with some skepticism.

"Are you and Liza friends?," Nicole asked.

"We are," he said, eyeing her back through the rear view mirror.

"What kind of friends?," she asked.

"Good friends," he said. "Is that OK?"

He wasn't sure what she was getting at or if she was even upset by it.

"I really like Liza," Nicole said. "I'm glad you're friends. You seem happier since you've been friends."

Relief washed over him. He still wrestled with feelings of guilt - you're still married, you jerk, and here you are secretly dating your employee. He even felt bad lying to the girls, or at least not being totally honest with them.

But right now he also felt complete gratitude to his beautiful daughters, who were growing up faster than he would have liked.

"Thank you, Nicole," he said. "I am happier."

And that was that.

Before they went to Liza's he drove them by his old apartment, telling them he lived there many, many years ago.

He picked up ice cream and cake from the store - he let the girls pick out their favorite - knowing that he couldn't show up empty handed, even if he was told he could.

They climbed the steps to Liza's loft and he could tell his daughters were excited. They rang the bell and Maggie answered, wearing a long robe.

"I'm Maggie," she said. Charles went at first to shake her hand but Maggie went in for the hug, and he hugged back.

"These are, uh, my daughters - Nicole and Bianca," he said. Maggie's face lit up. Liza told him how good she was to her own daughter through the years, and he felt immediately comfortable with her.

"I'm Maggie," she said. "We're so happy you guys could come for Liza's birthday!"

When the girls spotted Liza they ran to her. Charles almost laughed. He could tell she was hurting, but he didn't know how to describe to his daughters what it meant to be hungover.

"Happy birthday!," they said, in near unison.

"Hi," he said, as Liza embraced Nicole and Bianca.

"Hey," she said back. They both had big goofy grins on. Once the girls broke away from Liza, she went in to hug him. He pulled her in tight.

"I am so happy you are here," she whispered in his ear. "Me too," he whispered back. They pulled apart, self consciously, but Maggie was wise enough to distract Nicole and Bianca for a bit, bringing them over to her paintings to show them a few.

Charles quickly kissed her when he saw the girls couldn't see them.

"Happy birthday, in person," he said.

The pizza they had ordered was on the kitchen island and Liza - who was now starving - encouraged everyone to eat.

"Ok," she said, forcing herself to sound energetic. "Who wants pizza?"

Everything was easy after that. They ate, they showed the girls the apartment, and then they decided on a movie. Neither of the girls had seen "A Sound of Music" yet and Liza made the final decision to watch it.

It made her think of Caitlin, who had FaceTimed earlier to wish her mom a happy birthday. Introducing it to new people - two girls who she adored - made her happy.

They settled in on the large couch with both girls insisting on sitting next to Liza. Maggie offered wine to Charles, to took a small glass. Liza said she didn't need a hair of the dog, to which the girls wanted to know what that meant.

"Don't worry about that," Charles said, sitting down next to Bianca, who sat next to Liza. "Let's just watch the Von Trapp family."

Halfway through the movie, when the girls were deep into it, Charles wrapped his arm high around the couch and squeezed Liza's shoulder, smiling at her.

She mouthed "thank you."

"Thank you," he mouthed back.

The girls fell asleep in the middle of "Frozen," even though they picked it. Swimming, the drive, the food - it all knocked them out. Charles and Liza covered them up with blankets and walked over to the kitchen, settling in across from each other on the kitchen island.

"Was your birthday everything you imagined?," he asked.

"I'm still a little hungover, but yes - it exceeded it all," she said. "You have no idea how happy I am to have you and the girls over today. Really."

"Nicole was asking about us," he said. "Well, I don't think she knows, but she was really insistent on what kind of friends we are."

"What did you tell her?"

"That we're good friends," he said. "We are good friends!"

"Better than good friends," she said. "Close, personal, intimate friends."

Charles laughed.

"Well, when I tell her that maybe we are more than good friends, we already have Nicole's approval," he said.

"Oh?," Liza asked.

"She said I seemed happier since we became friends," he said. "And she's right."

"You have a very wise daughter," she said. "And I'm happier, too."

"Hey," Charles said. "I had something else for you. For your birthday."

He quietly dashed over to where his coat was, where Maggie was feverishly painting, headphones in.

He pulled out a small wrapped box.

"I don't pretend to understand jewelry," he said. "So I got you something that I do understand. But just, be gentle."

Liza unwrapped it and found a first edition copy of "A Farewell to Arms," the most romantic of Ernest Hemingway's books.

"Oh my God," she said. "Is this -"

"- It was my mother's," he said. "It's been in a box for years and years, and I found it recently and thought you should have it."

"Charles, this is - this is amazing," she said. "I can't take it."

"Please," he said. "I want you to have it.

Liza leaned in across the kitchen island, impulsively. She kissed him.

"Thank you, Charles," she said. He kissed her back.

"Why, darling, I don't live at all when I'm not with you," she said, quoting from the book. Charles smiled.

"Quoting from the book," he said. "You're amazing. Here's mine: 'Oh darling, you will be good to me, won't you? Because we're going to have a strange life.'"


	11. Pie

The movie dates continued every few weeks. Sometimes at Liza's loft, sometimes at Charles's house.

The girls looked forward to them maybe as much as Liza and Charles, picking what they wanted to watch and the snacks they would get to eat. They didn't seem to question why Charles never had any other friends over to watch a movie. Or why their dad was hanging around so much with their occasional (former) babysitter.

Liza taught them how to do a French braid, letting Bianca try it on her. She painted their nails. She told them about her daughter, and they wanted to hear stories about her. She listened to Nicole whisper to her about the girls in class who were mean to her.

"I don't want to tell dad," she told Liza quietly, in the kitchen while helping her make popcorn. "I don't want him to get upset."

Liza - their dad's friend, as they knew her, and formerly their babysitter - had become a big, happy part of their life.

Which was why it was natural for Bianca to mention Liza at the Katz's house on a night they were all over for dinner.

"We watched that movie at Liza's house," she declared at the table, after Julia, in an effort to make conversation, asked if they'd seen "Moana."

"I'm too old for it," Nicole chimed in. "But I still liked the music. Liza told me next time I can pick the movie."

Bob and Julia looked at each other, and then at Charles.

"Liza?," Bob asked. "Who's Liza?"

"Dad's friend," Bianca said. "From work. She babysit for us before."

"She and dad are good friends, actually," Nicole added, barely looking up. Charles had never wanted to muzzle his children before. Suddenly he wanted to.

He stared at his plate, moving around mashed potatoes. He wanted to crawl under the table, but he had to jump in.

"Oh, you know, she's just a friend from work," he said. "Gets along really well with the girls, right, girls?"

"Well, she sounds great!," Julia, oblivious, said.

"Charles, let's go grab a drink in the kitchen," Bob said.

They walked into the kitchen, Charles dragging his feet, and suddenly feeling like he was sent to the principal's office.

"Charles -"

" - I know," he said.

"You're going to this woman's house?," he said. "With the girls?"

"Look, Bob, it's not what you think," he said. "Or maybe it is what you think, but it's different."

"Is she still the twentysomething employee who works for you?," Bob asked. Charles smiled.

"She's not a twentysomething," he said. "She lied about her age."

Bob shook his head.

"You know everytime you open your mouth, it gets worse," he said. "She lied? So she's -"

" - She pretended to be 26 to get a job at Empirical."

"Charles."

"I know."

"Charles. Your company."

"I'm in love with her," he said. "That's it, really. I didn't mean for it to happen but it did."

Bob sighed, rubbing his face.

"You are in deep, my friend. I don't think this is good -"

"- It's wonderful," Charles said, interjecting. "It's complicated but it's amazing. She's smart. She's funny. I care about her. She cares about me. She's the only person I want to talk to or see a lot of the time. I trust her."

He was sick of feeling bad around his friend when he had spent the last few months being remarkably, insanely, improbably happy.

"Have you heard from Pauline?," Bob said, perhaps feeling the need to knock his friend back down.

"I haven't," Charles said. "She hasn't called me, or emailed me, or tried to reach out to her daughters. She hasn't sent back the divorce papers. But you know what? After abandoning her family we've been fine - we've figured it out - and Liza has been a big part of that."

Charles was angry now, but he didn't want to raise his voice.

"There was a lot I did wrong in our marriage, and I wasn't all that happy either, but you know what? I didn't run away," he said.

"I've been taking care of my girls on my own for more than a year now, and that wasn't easy. You don't know what it's like to see your children crying because they miss their mom. You don't know what it's like to have to lie to them because they want to know if their mom still loves them even though she left — and you actually aren't sure if she does."

Bob just looked at him.

"And you don't know what it's like to see your girls having fun, laughing and enjoying their lives with a woman who you have fallen absolutely, ridiculously in love with," he said. "After they've been so… sad for so long."

"Charles, look -"

" - I'm done listening, Bob," he said.

He went back into the dining room.

"Come on girls," he said. "Finish up and we'll head home."

"Oh, but I have pie!," Julia said. "I didn't serve the pie yet."

"Well, what kind of pie?," Nicole asked, skeptically, and Charles wanted to hug her right then.

"We have ice cream at home," Bianca said.

"Ok girls, let's go then," Charles said. He thanked Julia and the girls hugged her and Bob goodbye.

"Charles, wait," Bob said, following him out into the hallway.

"I don't want to be rude," he said. "But I just don't want to have this conversation right now."

"You're not being rude. I'm just looking out for you."

Charles sighed.

"I'll call you tomorrow?," Bob said, and Charles nodded.

The three of them walked home again through the park, with Nicole and Bianca debating which pie was their favorite. How much pie had they eaten, really? Wasn't that a Thanksgiving thing?

"Dad, what's your favorite pie?," Bianca asked.

"My favorite pie? I'm not sure," he said. "Maybe pumpkin."

"Pumpkin?," Nicole said. "Not apple?"

"Not apple," he said

"Do you know Liza's favorite pie?"

Charles laughed.

"I don't know," he said. "We'll have to ask her that the next time we see her."

It was a stupid, silly conversation that he was happy to have. But wise Nicole, as always, saw through it, walking closer to him to talk.

"Are you mad at Uncle Bob?," she asked, before they emerged somewhere along Central Park West.

"Why do you ask that?"

"I just thought you seemed like it," she said. "Mad at him."

Charles could lie. Nicole was 9, but sometimes she either acted her age or like an adult. He decided to be honest with her.

"You're right," he said. "I am upset with him. Nothing major. I just didn't like - "

" - Was it when we were talking about Liza?," she asked.

He smiled.

"It was," Charles said. "Your Uncle Bob doesn't think I should be her friend since she's my employee."

They turned left towards their block, Charles and Nicole walking a few steps behind Bianca, who didn't seem to notice the conversation going on behind her.

"I think that's stupid," Nicole said, and Charles laughed.

"Who cares if she's your employee? Does she get special treatment at work because she's your friend?"

"No," Charles said. "She doesn't."

"So he should just be happy that we all like her and get to spend time with her," she said.

"I agree," he said.

"Is it also about mom?," she asked, and Charles stopped.

"I think, a little," he said.

"Sometimes it feels like mom's never coming back, and then I get sad about it, but I also think we shouldn't just continue to be sad about it if we don't have to be. And why should we not get to see Liza because she's your employee?"

Charles put his arm around Nicole. They kept walking.

"'Your mom's coming back," he said. "But when she does, things will probably be different."

"How do you mean, different?"

"She'll still be your mom, but maybe your mom and I won't be together anymore," he said.

"You mean divorce? Jessica's parents got a divorce and she now has two bedrooms," she said.

"That is a plus," he said. "But it's still not all that easy."

"Well we've been through a lot already," she said. "We'll be fine."

They had made it to their front steps then, and Charles was happy for the darkness. He was tearing up, overwhelmed again by his beautiful children.

"You are a very smart girl, Nicole," he told her, trying to not let her see him cry. "Do you know how much I love being your dad?"

"I know," Nicole said. "Can we have ice cream inside since we didn't get to eat pie?"


	12. The Early Bird

Back at the house, Charles served up bowls of ice cream (he did feel bad about missing the pie) and put the girls to bed and sat down on the couch. He was restless and still angry.

And he was happy when his phone rang and saw it was Liza.

"Tell me something good," he said once he picked up.

"You're handsome," she said. He laughed.

"How was dinner?"

"Stressful," he said. "Well, it was fine until Bianca and Nicole started talking about their favorite person."

"Oh?," Liza said

"You, of course," he said. "And then I had to hear it from Bob -"

" - What did he say?," she asked.

"I told him we were dating," he said, and his voice got low. "He didn't think it was wise."

"I see," she said. Her voice dropped, too. "What was your response?"

"I told him he was wrong," he said. "I told him you were the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I didn't care what he thought. And then we left before dessert."

"Oh, Charles," she said. Liza wished she could just lean through the phone and hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.

"I wish I could be there with you right now," she said. They were both silent for a bit.

"Could you?," he asked, and then, anticipating her next question, said, "I'll tell the girls you just stayed over."

"I don't know," she said. "I want to - but I'm just -"

" - I know you might feel weird, and I get that," he said. "But I just want to wake up next to you tomorrow."

Liza got there just after 11, and Charles was at the door waiting for her.

"You got me to schlep all the way from Brooklyn here," she said. She had a bottle of wine tucked in her coat and handed it to him.

He leaned in and kissed her and they walked upstairs.

"So when Nicole asks a million questions tomorrow," she asked, slightly whispering. "What are we saying?"

"Just a simple sleepover," he said. "Or maybe the heat was out at your place?"

"The L train isn't working," she said. "I was stranded in the city."

"I'm just sticking with sleepover," he said. "Or you can just be here and not even mention how you got here. Although Nicole is getting too smart for me now. I can't lie to her anymore."

"Lying is bad," she said, smiling. "It just complicates everything."

He looked at her, knowing where she was going.

"Soon we can both come clean, about everything," he said.

"I hope," she said.

"Thank you for coming," he said.

She kissed him.

"I feel like I'm sneaking in," she said. "But I'm also very excited to finally sleep a full eight hours in your big fancy bed."

"What makes you think you'll be sleeping 8 hours?," he said, and she laughed.

The next morning, they both woke up before the sun.

"Hi," Charles said, when he saw her stirring awake. "How did you sleep?"

Liza stretched and put her hand to Charles's face.

"I slept great," she said.

He threw on sweatpants and opened the curtains in his dark bedroom.

"The girls should be up in a bit," he said. "Help me make pancakes?"

Nicole and Bianca came barrelling down into the kitchen about an hour later, running to Liza when they saw her.

"You're here early!," Bianca said, and she and Charles looked at each other. _Of course,_ she thought. _They're not even thinking I stayed over._

"The early bird," she said, "gets the chocolate chip pancakes. Who wants some?"

Charles looked back over to Liza and his daughters as he flipped pancakes at his stove. And he was overwhelmed then with this feeling of comfort and love.

Liza walked over with two empty plates and asked Charles to load them up for the girls. He didn't know if it was the right time then to say it, but it flew out of

"So Bianca wants two pancakes, and Nicole wants three, but I'd say just give them both the same - " she said.

"- I love you," he said, out of earshot from his daughters, and Liza stopped.

"I - I don't know if saying it over breakfast like this is the best way, but I couldn't help it," he said. "I love you, Liza."

Liza put the plates down and grabbed Charles' hand. The girls were behind them, not paying any attention.

"I love you, too," she said, squeezing his hand. "And I wish that I could kiss you right now."


	13. Meant to Be

"To Charles!," Bob said, sitting inside Keens Steakhouse with about half a dozen of their other friends.

It was Charles's 45th birthday dinner, at the steakhouse where they celebrated since college. It was an annual thing, all the guys meeting up to talk and catch up and celebrate. They were on to dessert now, after eating too much steak and drinking a few whiskeys too many.

Bob sat next to Charles and leaned in as he picked at the cake.

"How are you doing?," he asked, whispering. "How's ….everything?"

"Everything is really fantastic," he said. "This is so far a better birthday than last year, but maybe one of the best in a long time."

Charles had a stupid grin on his face and took a sip of his drink.

"How's …"

"How's Liza?," Charles said, whispering again. He hadn't told his other friends about her - afraid of what they might think or say, what their wives, who were friendly with Pauline, might think.

"That's what I was getting at," Bob said.

"Liza is really … amazing. She's home with the girls right now," he said. "We had birthday cake before coming here, actually. It didn't spoil my dinner."

Bob shook his head, almost in awe.

"You had such a lousy thing happen to you, and it's not even over, but you fell in love," Bob said. "You're not angry. I'm happy for you, buddy. Really."

"I couldn't be angry, because of the girls," he said. "And I don't know what I did to deserve someone like Liza walking into my life but I wake up every morning thankful that she did."

Charles leaned back a bit and looked at Bob.

"Why don't you come meet her?," he said. "Tonight, after dinner. Come back to the house."

"I would love that," Bob said.

 _Charles: On my way. Have a surprise._

He texted Liza on the way over, and then - thinking she might think it was a better surprise - sent a clarification.

 _Charles: The surprise is Bob._

Half an hour later Bob and Charles, a little tipsy, came barreling up the stairs to his brownstone, where Liza was sitting on the couch.

Charles was red-faced and goofy, and Liza laughed at the sight of him.

"You looked like you had fun!," she said.

"So much fun," he said, and put his hands on Bob's shoulders.

"Liza, this is Bob," he said. He felt nervous and excited and full.

"And Bob, this is Liza." He beamed at Liza, proud to be introducing the two. Bob went over and shook Liza's hand and then went in for a hug; it took Liza by surprise but she went with it, laughing at her boyfriend and his best friend, drunk, so excited to see her.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," he said. "Truly. Charles has told me so much about you."

"And you," Liza said.

Charles went off to the bar and poured three drinks, placing them on the coffee table.

"How were they tonight?," he asked Liza. He had felt bad asking her to watch them when he wasn't home - she was no longer a babysitter - but she offered and he agreed.

"They were great," she said. "They made you birthday gifts that they want you to open tomorrow, on your actual birthday."

Charles went over and kissed Liza quickly, and the three of them talked and drank for what felt like hours - about books, Manhattan, Brooklyn, what Charles was like in college, their other friends, Julia, and everything in between.

It was opening another level of Charles' life - his friends. Liza was glad; she knew how important it was to her that Charles and Maggie got along.

"So Charles says you have a daughter too?," Bob said, cradling a glass in his hand. At this point, Charles and Liza were both on the couch, his arm around her.

"Yes, Caitlin," she said. "She's up at school in Vassar now, just started a few months ago."

"You're kidding!," Bob said. "My daughter Rose is there, too. Freshman."

Charles looked at Bob, confused.

"I thought Rose was going to Cornell?," he asked.

"She changed her mind at the very last minute," he said. "Realized she couldn't take those Ithaca winters.

"That's funny," Liza said. "I didn't go up with her for move-in day but I visited a few weeks ago. A big suite with a few other girls. In Strong House."

"That's where Rose is!," Bob said, incredulous. "I wonder if they know each other."

"Let me ask Caitlin," she said, pulling out her phone. "Oh, what time is it - 11:30? Hopefully she's still up."

Charles laughed.

"She's in college," he said. "I hope she's still up." Liza playfully slapped him and then sent the text to her daughter.

Mom: Do you know a girl at Vassar named Rose Katz?

A few moments later, she read the text back from her daughter.

"'Rose is my suitemate! Why do you ask,'" Liza said, laughing.

The three of them stopped and looked at each other, and Bob shook his head in disbelief.

"Small world, huh?," he said. "Maybe I even met her."

Liza pulled up a photo on her phone then and passed it to Bob.

"I did meet her!," he said. "This is unbelievable."

"Really unbelievable," Charles said, and squeezed Liza closer.

Bob left a little while later; it was just before midnight, and he joked that Julia would be looking for him soon.

Liza and Charles went up to bed, and as she changed in his room he stared at her. He was a few minutes into 45 then - Liza made a point of marking it right at midnight, kissing Charles deeply.

"What are you looking at, birthday boy?," she asked.

"You," he said. "Beautiful you. And thinking."

"About what?"

Liza got into bed, and Charles joined her.

"Maybe if you hadn't come to Empirical, we still would have met," he said, sweetly.

It struck Liza then like lightning - she felt suddenly that this was all fated, that everything that had happened up to this point was working towards Charles.

She grabbed his hands and held them to her chest.

"I guess we would have," she said. "It was all leading to this."

And then she kissed him.


	14. The Message

Charles was running on the treadmill, watching the morning news on low in front of him, his phone next to his bed, when he saw it light up out of the corner of his eye. An email, maybe. Or a text.

He ignored it and kept running.

That weekend he and Liza drove up with Nicole and Bianca to a horse sanctuary in Chatham, had a picnic in the mountains, then drove back to the city as the sun set behind them. The girls fell asleep in the back seat of the car, and he and Liza talked the whole ride back, quietly, about who they thought was the most overrated author.

Just thinking about it now, on Tuesday morning before the sun came up, made him smile.

He got off the treadmill after putting in six miles and jumped quickly into the shower. When he got out he wrapped himself in a towel, took one to dry his hair, and absentmindedly walked back to his bedside table.

He looked down at the phone and his heart fell to the floor.

 _Pauline: I'm back in New York. Can we meet?_

"Fuck," Charles said.

He was shocked, then angry, then sad, then angry again, when Pauline left. Then a part of him felt partially relieved; despite all of the stress, and the uncertainty, and the crippling loneliness, in the last few years life at home hadn't been great.

And then came Liza. Everything about him and his life changed when he met her, and months later when he kissed her, and he was a better man every single day since. She removed the feeling of dread from his life.

When he saw the text, that dread returned. He panicked.

He rushed to get dressed and get the girls up. He grabbed his phone, walked them to school, and debated going back home - but he knew he would just go crazy there.

On his walk to work he started dialing.

"Can we meet before work?," he asked.

"Is everything ok?," Liza asked.

"I hope so."

Liza was at the coffee shop before him and he rushed right in. She could see on his face something was wrong.

"Charles, what -"

He put his phone down on the table and showed her the text.

"I haven't heard from Pauline in two years. She's ignored the divorce papers. She's missed two Christmases, four birthdays, she wouldn't even tell her own mother - my kids' grandmother - where she was," he said.

"And she just sends me this?"

The dread that Charles felt, Liza felt it too. They had been in a bubble of their own making for so long now, she had forgotten it couldn't last forever.

Charles leaned back and looked Liza expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

"Oh, Charles," she said, breathing out. She held his hand.

"I knew it was coming," he said. "I thought it would happen sooner. Wanted it to, so many months ago. But then -" He sighed again.

" - I know," Liza said. "What are you going to write back?"

"Write back?," he said. "I should ignore her for two years."

"Charles," Liza said, shaking her head. "The girls. Nicole and Bianca. Their mom is back."

"I know," he said. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. "Maybe I shouldn't go to work today."

"Meet her today," she said. "You have to see what she's going to say."

Before they left she kissed him softly and then hugged him, and he held on to her tightly.

"We're good no matter what," he said.

Pauline sat at a back table in a restaurant in lower Manhattan, far from their old life but not as far as she'd been the last two years.

Charles walked through the front door and saw her there, alone, looking at her phone. She looked slightly different, smaller maybe, or her hair was different.

"Pauline," he said, and she looked up suddenly at him. He didn't know what to do. Hug her? Give her his hand?

He sat down instead, sitting across from his wife, who he hadn't seen in two years.

"Charles," she said.

And then he became so viscerally angry he had to fight himself from screaming.

"Why are you back here," he said. "Where have you been."

"Charles, I -"

" - You abandoned us. You vanished. You could have been dead for all I knew."

"I wasn't dead," she said.

"Do you know what you did to your daughters?," he said, his voice trembling.

"I had to show them how to live their own lives."

"You showed them nothing," he said. "Absolutely nothing. You showed them how to leave. That's it. Was I so bad? I was so bad you had to leave your whole family?"

"Charles, can we just talk calmly —"

"I will not talk to you or let you see nicole and Bianca until you sign and return the divorce papers," he said. "Do you understand? Do you need another copy?"

"That is incredibly unfair," she said. "I want to see them and I want to talk to you."

"You had years to see them," he said as he stood up. "Now that you're back we have to finish this."


	15. Beautiful Things

He left the restaurant, his face red and hot. He started walking but he didn't know where he was going at first, just wanted to put distance between him and Pauline. He was angry, horribly angry, but he also felt exhilarated.

Since she left he feared what he would say to her when she returned, thought for a while about what it would be like to see her again. Now that it happened, he felt relieved.

After walking for a bit he thought to call Bob.

"Pauline's back," he said. Bob sighed.

"I know," he said. "She called Julia this morning."

"What did she say to Julia?," he asked.

"She said she was hoping to make amends," Bob said. "Maybe work things out."

Charles stopped walking, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, stunned.

"I don't want to work anything out," he said. "The time to work things out has passed."

And he meant it. And he maybe even meant that the time to work things out was before she left, before she snuck out one day while the girls were in school and Charles was at work and didn't come back for 24 months.

"She's gonna have to see her kids at some point," Bob said, and Charles knew he was right. He'd need a divorce lawyer, and Bob reminded him that he wasn't one. He'd need to talk to the girls and tell them what was going on. He'd have to spent a lot of money to end it - _just end it, he thought_ \- and for a second he laughed, thinking it was at least cheaper when she had just left. No lawyers needed for that.

Later on he texted Pauline.

 _Charles: You can come by the house tomorrow to see the girls, but I also need the divorce papers signed. And we need to talk, but with our lawyers._

Her text back was effusive, apologetic, but he didn't know if she was sincere. They agree she'd come by the house the next day after school.

As he and the girls ate dinner he asked them how their day was, what they did in school, if they had any homework left to do.

"So your mom is coming back," he said. "She, uh, she'll be by tomorrow."

They both looked up at him but seemed expressionless.

"Ok," Nicole said. "After school?"

Charles nodded.

"OK, daddy," Bianca said.

They didn't say anything after.

"Do you want to talk about it?," Charles said. "About...mom coming back."

"Where was she?," Nicole asked.

Charles didn't even know, exactly.

"We can ask her tomorrow," he said. "She probably has a lot to say."

"Ok," Bianca said. They kept eating and didn't talk about it the rest of the night - not when he put them to bed, or wished them goodnight.

When he got into bed that night he called Liza, who answered the phone on the first ring.

"Hi," she said, her voice comforting and sweet. "How are you?"

And then told her everything: his brief meeting with Pauline, how he practically ran out of the restaurant, how the girls seemed almost bored about it, how he was suddenly more anxious than ever.

"I think it may take the girls a bit to process it," Liza said. "When my mom died, it took Caitlin a few days just to cry. This isn't a death but it's another big thing in their lives."

"You're right," he said. "She's coming by tomorrow. I don't know what to expect."

"It's good for them," she said. "And for you. It starts the process of moving on."

He sighed and leaned back into his pillows.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm taking off again tomorrow. Told Diana it's family stuff. Can I call when you're at lunch? Just to hear you?"

"Of course," she said. "I've been through this. It's not easy. But honestly it's for the better - just a bumpy road. You have lots of beautiful things ahead, believe me."

Charles smiled.

"I have you," he said. "I love you. Goodnight."

Later that night, as he was just starting to fall asleep, he heard footsteps come into his bedroom.

"Daddy?"

It was Bianca, her voice frail.

He shot up and turned the light on next to his bed, and she looked like she had been crying.

"Bianca, what's wrong?," he asked, and motioned for her to come over to the bed. He picked her up and took her into his arms, where she nearly collapsed into him, in tears.

"I'm….scared of mommy coming back," she said, and it all shocked him. He expected excitement and joy at the dinner table when he told them Pauline was returning, and their muted response surprised him.

"What are you scared of?," he asked.

"That she'll be different. Or things will be different," he said. "Does she still love us?"

Charles brought his daughter even tighter to him.

"She does," he said. "It's all going to be ok."

"Can I stay in your bed tonight?," she asked, and he moved over to make room.

"Of course," he said, making sure she was comfortable, her tiny head resting on the pillow next to him. He shut the light and wrapped one arm around her and she went quickly back to sleep.

And then, a few moments later, with Bianca to his left, he heard footsteps again.

It was Nicole, who said nothing at first. She walked over to the right side of his bed and sat down.

"Dad," she said. "I, uh, I had a bad dream. Do you think…"

Charles caught a glimpse of his daughter's face through a bit of light that came in through the street outside. He often thought she was so practical and wise, growing up too fast, but right now she looked scared and he could almost see a bit of the face she had as a baby.

"Come in," he said, and she crawled in next to him, leaning close to his side. She, too, fell fast asleep. It was the three of them in that bed, the way it had been for the last two years.

Charles then lay in his bed as his two daughters slept at his side, breathing slowly and dreaming, he hoped, of beautiful things.


	16. Little Things

What Liza loved the most about Charles were the small, random things she couldn't have predicted.

She loved the way he leaned into her to match her height when they sat across each other at a table.

She loved the way he delicately traced the small of her back before resting his hand there.

The way he cupped her face sometimes before kissing her. The way he listened intently to what she said and takes a beat before smiling wide, his forehead crinkling and eyes narrowing to look at her.

She loved way he laughed, the way he giggled, the explosion of "ha!" that shot out of him when she said something, or the girls said something.

Liza thought about all of these things in the apartment, eating dinner with Maggie although mostly just picking at the food. She had a knot in her stomach and she couldn't explain why.

"Whattsamatter?," Maggie asked, holding her glass of wine up.

Liza looked up at her.

"Charles is bringing his wife by the house today," she said. "To see the girls."

"This is her first time seeing the girls since she's back?"

"The first time," Liza said, and looked away. "I have no idea why but I am terrified. Is that crazy?"

"Crazy to be worried your boyfriend's technical wife has returned for a family reunion? Of course it's not crazy," Maggie said.

"But I also think you have nothing to worry about."

"Mags, do I want to break up a family?"

"Oh please, she broke up her family," Maggie said, waving it off. "You are the best thing to happen to that family in years. I mean that."

Liza took a sip of her wine, leaned back and closed her eyes.

"I'm just afraid," she said. "Of losing him. Of losing them. And then of the other things to lose. My job, Kelsey."

"You are putting too much on yourself," Maggie said. "If you want to come clean, do it. But don't anticipate what will happen before it does."

"I always worry," Liza said.

"Years ago you were a depressed housewife pretending you didn't know your husband was cheating on you, and now you're living in a loft with your best friend and banging a hot boss and doing your dream job," Maggie said, smiling at her.

"You might be surprised how things turn out."

That night, before bed, her phone buzzed with a message from Charles. She'd texted him a few hours before, afraid of bugging him.

 _Charles: I'm sorry I didn't get back to you_

 _Liza: How was it?_

 _Charles: A lot. I'm wiped. Can we talk tomorrow?_

Liza leaned back into her pillow and closed her eyes for a moment. She was worried, and she wasn't even sure why.

 _Liza: Yes. Get some rest. Xo_

Liza tried to sleep, tried to not to worry, but she tossed and turned all night.


	17. Nothing Left to Save

Charles heard the doorbell ring and he hurried down the stairs and realized how weird it was before opening the door. His wife, who decorated the house and spent the bulk of their marriage there, was ringing the doorbell. She had a key, he thought. Still, she rang the doorbell.

"Hi, Charles," she said, and she looked smaller than when they first met.

"Hi, Pauline."

She followed him silently up the stairs and Charles didn't know where to walk. To the living room? To the kitchen? To the den, or the study? His house felt too big right now, like there were too many options or places to go.

He kept walking into the kitchen, and she followed him there.

"Do you - want anything?," he asked. This was her kitchen. She picked out that tile when they redid it after Bianca was born. She wanted the sub-zero fridge and the sink where the water turned on just by waving under the spout.

"Could I have some tea?," she said. Pauline always drank tea at this time of day, he thought. He should have had water boiling. He should have had it ready.

No, he thought. You don't owe her any hospitality. Any pre-planning. Any care.

He filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, hearing the click-click of the burner before the flame came on.

Pauline sat silently the whole time, looking at him.

"Charles, I want you to know how sorry I am," she said. "And I… I think we can still talk through this."

"Talk through this?," he asked.

"We can work it out. For the girls."

No niceties now. No tea or cookies. Charles was angry, nervous, scared.

"We can work this out with our lawyers," he said. "You're here to see the girls, but after that we need to get something formal. Family therapy or mediation or — I don't know."

"I'm sorry and I just want us to talk before —"

"— this meeting is for them, not us," Charles said.

The kettle whistles and he turned his back to her to turn it off.

"Is it because of your girlfriend?"

He stopped short by the stove and closed his eyes, spinning around and opening them to look at her.

"How did —"

"Julia told me," she said. "She didn't want to but I met with her and I asked. It's an honest question. I was gone for a while. And I wasn't alone the whole time either."

"You left me for another man," he said. "What was the story — your old college friend, from your creative writing class?"

"That… didn't work out," she said.

"Who is she?"

Who was Liza to Charles? That was a question he thought about every day, bounced it around in his mind. Anything to keep her face in his head.

"She is —"

He paused. He could be hurtful here, looking at his wife who for months had been a villain. Now she looked frail.

"She is a very important person in my life," he continued. "We — we met and —"

" — Julia said she works at Empirical," she said. "An assistant? She wouldn't tell me her know, but I hope she's not your assistant."

""It's not like that," he said.

"so then what's it like?"

He could sense her anger but he chose not to rise to it. He refused to bring any anger into a discussion about Liza.

"It's beautiful," he said. "She — she's changed my life. And she was here for the girls —"

"— in a way that I wasn't?"

Her eyes watered now and he could see the sadness there behind the anger. It was a mess, he thought, all of it. The years he ignored her without realizing it or wasn't honest with how things were going.

But when she was here she was a wonderful mother. He could not, not now or ever, take that from her.

"Pauline, you are their mother," he said. "That is what we are salvaging here. Nobody, not me although I tried, and not anyone else, could replace you."

A few tears fell down Pauline's face as she slowly started to cry. He put his hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look up at him.

Charles was filled with a sense of calm. A reminder of what was important. Nicole, Bianca.

Liza.

He poured the boiling water into a mug - Pauline's favorite, he remembered - and watched as the water slowly turned black. Earl grey. Her favorite, too.

"The girls are our focus," he said. "Not us. Do you understand? We are salvaging you as their mom. There is nothing else left to save here."


	18. Hooky

harles wanted to talk to Liza - to hold her, to have her with him that night, in his bed - but he was too exhausted, mentally and physical, to call her. He texted her back and then felt bad he couldn't be more forthcoming that night.

He just had too much on his mind.

From the moment he brought Nicole and Bianca through their front door to see Pauline, his heart was in his mouth. He didn't know how they would feel, or what they would do, or how Pauline would react.

They saw her and at first were quiet.

"Hi, honeys," Pauline said, and he could tell she wanted to cry but worked to hold it back. "Come over, say hi."

And they slowly walked to her and hugged her, apprehensive. To his surprise it was Nicole who broke first, crying into her mother's arm, hugging it.

It went like that for a little while, the three of them - Charles fighting it, actually giving them some time alone - crying and hugging. He didn't know what Pauline would tell them.

She told them the truth, as much as they could handle.

She left because she felt she needed to get away, and was stressed but it wasn't their fault, she said. She had to work some things out far away but she was back now and she wasn't going anywhere.

He let them talk through that on his own, walking into the kitchen for a bit where he sat for what felt like forever with his elbows on the counter, his head in his hands.

Pauline was staying at a friend's house since she returned and despite her hinting that she could stay in the guest room that night, he made it clear that she should leave. Their lawyers would be figuring things out officially, but he didn't want to keep the girls from their mom. She'd come by the next day, and then they would work it out.

After she left the girls didn't want to eat dinner. He offered them dessert, which they didn't want either. They went to bed early, nearly silent, and when he went to tuck them in - each in their own rooms, without knowing the other had asked it - they asked the same question.

"Are we going to be OK?"

"Of course we are," he said, kissing them on the forehead. He tried to read in bed but was distracted, going over the day in his head. He texted Liza before falling asleep.

When he woke up before the sunrise he thought to himself, there's no way I'm going to work today. After taking the girls to school he took his car out of the garage he kept it in and started driving.

He made it through the traffic to get to the Williamsburg Bridge. As he slowly crossed it, he called Liza.

"Hi," she said after just a few rings.

"Hi," he said. "Where are you?"

Liza had just left the apartment and was walking to the L train.

"Headed to work," she said. "Are you...not headed to work?"

"Play hooky. Call out sick. I told the office I'm working from home. Spend the day with me."

She thought about it - she had to help Kelsey on a book release for Millennial, and of course Diana would need _everything_ \- but that all didn't seem as pressing as Charles did right now.

"Should I come to you?," she asked.

"Stay there," Charles said, and she could hear how excited he sounded on the phone. "Wait, where are you exactly?"

She saw him double-parked across the street from the Bedford Avenue stop and her heart skipped a beat.

He waved from the front seat and jumped out to open the passenger door when she crossed.

"Hi," he said, and leaned in for a kiss. "I got coffee."

"You are a godsend," Liza said.

"What did you tell Diana?," Charles asked.

"Stomach bug," she said. "Diana didn't want any further details."

She took a sip of her coffee and they stopped to just look at each other for a few moments.

"How was -"

" - It was a lot," he said. "I - I just needed a day. I needed to see you. Pauline will be back this evening to see the girls again, she's coming after they're dropped off from after-school but I just -"

" - I get it," Liza said. "We have, 8 hours?"

"With traffic, let's say 7."

"Where should we go?," she asked.

They decided they'd drive out east, going against the morning traffic, leaving the city behind. And on the drive, Charles told her about the day before - about how the girls reacted, about how scared they looked. He had one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around Liza's hand, driving fast on the Long Island Expressway.

He talked, she listened. He asked for advice: family therapy? Just for the girls?

After two hours of driving they parked by the ferry to Fire Island, and went into a small diner for a belated breakfast.

Charles told her about the summers he spent further out in East Hampton, working at the ice cream shop as a teenager and sneaking into bars

"If we had more time I'd drive us there right now, stay in a bed and breakfast and not leave until tomorrow," he said. She smiled.

"I wish we could," she said. "There's not enough time."

Charles wanted nothing more than to hold Liza right then, to make love to her and laugh.

"You know I've never had sex in a car," he whispered, giving her a look. He took her hand and kissed it.

"I don't think I'd want to start at 45," he continued. "This weekend."

"That's not important," she said. "You got me out of work and that's what matters."

They both laughed.

"I love you," she said. "Just seeing you is enough."

The day went by too fast. Charles asked about Liza's divorce again, the personal stuff and the practical. How it was for Caitlin, how it was different because of her age. He told Liza he was worried about the girls separately and for different reasons. Bianca could be too sensitive and Nicole could be too tough and he knew that could hurt them.

"There's nothing more you can do than to just be there for them," Liza said, as they drove back to the city. Houses lined the highway.

"Is this like Jersey?," he joked.

"One day I'll show you my Jersey," she told him. "You know Caitlin will be staying with me in Brooklyn next month. I want you and the girls over for dinner. To meet her."

He quickly darted his eyes to her and then looked straight ahead.

"I would love that," he said.

He pulled off the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway at 4 p.m., driving slowly through Williamsburg

"Are you nervous?," she asked.

"I am," he said. "I was more nervous yesterday, but today we'll set up a pattern. Normalcy."

"The rest of it," she said. "This is just the beginning. But it's good. And it's important. And the girls will be fine."

He smiled at her.

"You will be fine," she said. Charles cupped her face and they kissed, nearly making out like teenagers on the corner of her apartment. He pulled away.

"I have to get back to Manhattan," he said. "I'll try to call you tonight but -"

"- Focus on the girls and you," Liza said. "I love you. And thank you for today."

He drove away once he saw she got inside, and Liza darted up the stairs. Maggie was out and she sat down on the couch, pulling out her phone. She'd avoided looking at her email all day.

As she scrolled through she saw a message and her heart dropped.

The sender: Pauline Turner Brooks.

The subject: _Charles_

She opened the email.

 _I think we should talk._


	19. Her Name is Liza Miller

That first night Pauline was back, as Charles cleaned the kitchen and gave her alone time with the girls, Nicole and Bianca asked their mother about the time she was away.

When she asked about the last two years of their lives, about school and their friends and teachers and horseback riding, it was inevitable that Liza would come up.

"We went horseback riding a few weeks ago with dad and Liza," Bianca said. Pauline blinked at her and Nicole kicked her sister.

Charles never told the girls that Liza was his girlfriend, and he never told them not to mention her to their mother, but Nicole was old enough and smart enough to not bring her up. She knew without saying it that her dad and Liza were maybe more than friends, that he lit up when he was around her. She knew when she was calling him because of the smile that shot across his face.

"Liza?," Pauline asked. "Sweetie, who's Liza?"

"She's just dad's friend from work," Nicole interjected.

"Well they're good friends," Bianca said. "She taught us how to make cookies, and how to make a friendship bracelet, how to do a fishtail braid...and a french braid, and -"

"- What does she do at daddy's job?," Pauline asked.

"I don't know," Bianca said. "But she has a daughter in college and she lives in Brooklyn."

"I see," Pauline said. She'd wanted a name since Julia told her Charles was seeing somebody. "Do you know her last name?"

"No," Nicole said. "We don't know her last na -"

"- It's Miller!," Bianca said. "Her name is Liza Miller. Didn't you know that, Nicole?"

They changed the subject. They spent the rest of the evening talking and sharing pictures, but in the back of Pauline's mind she kept thinking about Liza Miller. Who was this woman? How dare Charles spend so much time with her, with her daughters?

After she tucked them into bed she went back downstairs where Charles was reading in his study.

"The girls are in bed," she said.

"I'll go up in a minute to say goodnight," he said, never looking up from the manuscript. Pauline waited.

"It's getting late," he said. "I can call you a car."

Pauline moved towards him but stopped.

"Do you think I could stay, even in the guest room?," she pleaded with him. He couldn't look at her.

"I think it's best if you go back to where you're staying," he said.

"Charles," she began. "We can work through this."

"No, we can't," he said. "Your focus is on the girls, now us."

"Why are you so reluctant to even try?," she said.

"Pauline, you should go," he said. "I'm headed upstairs to see the girls."

She wanted him to tell her. It would be easier that way. Instead Pauline left the house and closed the door behind her.

Back at her sister's house it didn't take long for Pauline to find Liza Miller. There had been an article in Entertainment Weekly's 29 under 29 list for her work with Millennial with that Kelsey girl she'd met at some office holiday parties.

 _Huh_ , she thought.

How could this woman have a daughter in college if she was just 26? And she ran that new publishing house, Millennial?

 _Unless of course she's lying_ , she thought. She couldn't find a photo of this woman online.

She was suddenly enraged. Who did this woman think she was, stepping into her family? And who was Charles to bring her around the girls.

She found Liza Miller's email easily.

Pauline was going to see for herself.


	20. It's Not Too Late

Liza had grown used to the lying, in one part of her life, but for the first few days after getting an email from Pauline - and not telling Charles - she felt antsy.

She wasn't lying to him outright. It was a lie of omission, of simply not telling her boyfriend that his wife had emailed her, wanting to talk.

Her plan was to tell him as soon as she got the email, but he texted that he was tired and asked if they could talk the next morning. And then Liza was up early the following morning helping Maggie stretch a canvas, and she missed Charles' call. Talking at the office was off the table after one of Kelsey's authors had a last-minute panic attack and couldn't send in her latest chapters.

And then life kept getting in the way: Charles had the girls' swim meet, and Liza was going up to see Caitlin, and it didn't feel right for Liza to tell him this over the phone or in a text.

She noted that it had been a week since the email on her walk home from the L train. She turned left on Berry and walked towards home when she heard her name called from across the street.

"Liza."

She turned and saw Pauline a few paces behind her - knew it was Pauline from the photos she found in the drawers in Charles' study, and from the photos still in the girls' room. Her heart began to beat fast, so fast she could hear each thump in her ears.

"Pauline," she said, bolder than she thought she would.

"So you know who I am," Pauline said. She paused. They were both silent.

"Did you get your email?"

"I got your email," she said. "I was - "

"- I'm sorry to come like this," she said. Pauline sounded angry but also contrite, as if she realized what she was doing was extreme while still doing it.

"I just."

" - I know," Liza said. She wasn't angry. At that moment, a few feet from Pauline, Liza felt sympathy for her. This woman who came to Williamsburg to try and catch her husband's girlfriend on her walk home from the train.

Years before, when Liza suspected David had been having an affair with his dental assistant Debbie, she followed Debbie to her nail salon on Church Avenue in Montclair.

She thought about confronting her while she got a french manicure, and even psyched herself up to do it. But couldn't go through with it. She spent the last few months of her marriage silently simmering, wishing she had blown up on her husband's mistress.

Liza didn't feel like the other woman with Charles but she understood the instinct with Pauline.

"Do you want to get a drink?"

They both walked into the closest bark, a small, dark hipster spot, and took a table towards the back.

"Do you want a - "

" - I'll take a Jameson's on the rocks," Pauline said. Liza smiled.

She brought back two Jamesons and they sat briefly together in silence, holding their glasses.

"You weren't what I was expecting," Pauline said, breaking the ice. She had looked for Liza online, of course, but couldn't find any photos. But then, while with the girls one night, Bianca showed her a photo from when they'd gone horseback riding and she spotted Liza in the background.

"But I guess I didn't know what I was expecting," she continued. "Thinking of the girl who is sleeping with my - "

"You left," Liza said, as matter-of-factly as she could get it out. "I am far from the other woman."

"You don't understand," Pauline said. "I was drowning. I had to leave."

"You left your children," Liza said again. "And I do know what it's like to be stuck in something and not know a way out. But I never - "

She stopped. She was aware that Pauline didn't know her real age, thought she was just some twentysomething. She didn't know if she was fooling her now but didn't want to trip up, just in case.

"I've never been in your exact situation," Liza continued. "But why did you email me? Why do you want to meet?"

"I wanted to see you for myself," she said. Her eyes welled up and Liza held her glass firmly in her hand, afraid to drink.

"I've made a lot of mistakes," she continued. "I fucked a lot of stuff up, I know that. I'm not totally clueless. It's all now suddenly so real, and I have so many regrets."

"I understand regrets," Liza said. "And I think there's a reason why you left."

"Reasons," Pauline said. "It doesn't make me any less awful. Like a shitty mom. That's the worst part."

Tee tone had shifted at some point, magically, between sips 5 and 6 of the alcohol. Pauline, who came all the way out to Brooklyn to confront her husband's girlfriend, now seemed to just want to talk.

"When did you...when did it happen? You and...Charles," she sked.

Liza explained it. How she helped Charles out babysitting and they just talked and talked for a while. No sordid details.

"Was he reluctant?," Pauline asked.

"He was," Liza said.

Pauline held her glass up to her lips and paused briefly before setting it back down again.

"Can I ask you something else?"

Liza nodded.

"Did the girls ever ask for me?"

That hit Liza the hardest; as a mother, a more important job to her than being a wife ever was. She experienced it from the girls' perspective, from Charles' perspective, never thinking of it from Pauline's point of view.

But here was a mother filled with regret for leaving her daughters and what she wanted to know was if they missed her, too.

"They did," Liza said, remembering the times she'd see Bianca crying. "They missed you Pauline, so much. And I don't think it will be easy but they need you now more than anything."

Pauline was crying now, large tears falling down her cheeks. She didn't even bother to stop it.

Liza put her hand on Pauline's.

"It's not too late for them," she told her.


	21. Shit Happens

*** something about a global pandemic and mandatory quarantine that has me ... trying to think of something else ***

An hour after seeing her off in a cab, Liza walked back to the loft feeling warm and drunk and not as angry but also weird. She had gotten drunk with her boyfriend's wife. Comforted her about her feelings as a bad mom. Assured her that everything would be OK, eventually, and that the focus was on her daughters.

 _Did I shift it away from Charles on purpose?_ , Liza wondered. _Did I break girl code to keep Charles to myself?_

Charles. Shit. She ran into the loft and looked at her phone to find a missed call and a text from him.

 _Just checking in. I miss you._

He added the kissy emoji - it was so saccharine it made her smile.

"Your face is red," Maggie said from the corner of the apartment where she sat in front of a half-painted canvas.

"Drinking after work?"

Liza sighed and threw herself down on the couch.

"Jameson's," she said. "With Pauline."

Maggie spun around on her stool.

"Oh SHIT," she said. "Did you throw a drink in her face?"

"I consoled her," Liza said. "She cried to me and I consoled her."

"You consoled your boyfriend's girlfriend," Maggie repeated back to her best friend. "You're either the picture of grace or crazier than I thought."

"I didn't tell Charles," she said. "She emailed me and then just showed up and …I fucked it up. I lied to him, and we don't lie to each other."

Maggie sat next to Liza on the couch and the two just sat there in silence as Liza dipped her head back on the couch.

"What are you afraid of?," Maggie asked; she got right to the point.

"She's his wife," Liza said. "The mother of his daughters. What if he wants her back? What if he wants to keep the family together."

It was silent for a few moments; when Liza was really in it - her feelings and her anxiety - she shut down. Maggie knew.

"Sweetie, I get it," she said. "But shit happens. Not everything works out. You should know better than anyone that not every family is supposed to stay together."

Maggie got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and two Advil for Liza. She plopped back on the couch, putting her head next to her friend.

"He's crazy about you," she said. "He loves you. And you showed a real maturity and care for his life before you to treat his wife this way."

She handed Liza the glass of water and she dutifully took the Advil.

"Call him," Maggie said. "And just tell him."

Maggie kissed the top of her friend's head.

"This will work out," she said. She went back to her painting and Liza walked slowly into her bedroom, throwing herself on her bed. She pulled the phone up to her ear.

"Hey you," she said. "I have to tell you something."


	22. We're OK

Charles dreaded turning to Bianca and Nicole's school that morning. Every other mom and nanny was huddled together talking, and they stopped when they spotted him.

Great, Charles thought. They know.

He had long stopped caring what the moms at his daughters' school thought of him. Pauline's friends. Their children were mostly mean, with only a few actually good to his girls.

It was one of the things he hated most about this world - his world, even if he had always hated it. He hated it but it comforted him at the same time. Maybe he should have moved out of the Upper East Side, out of his parents' house, out of his father's company, away from everything.

"Will you pick us up after school?," Bianca asked, jolting him from his brain working on overdrive.

"Your babysitter will grab you two," he said. "But I'll be home tonight after work. Do you want spaghetti again?"

Nicole had been quiet on the walk, and she looked upset.

"That sound good to you, Nicole?" Charles playfully nudged his oldest daughter as he bent down to kiss her on the head.

"What's going to happen with you and mom?"

Why did he bring it up now? With every mom within earshot?

"Honey...we can talk about it - "

" - When will we see her? On weekends like Jaime's dad?"

"Where will she live?," Bianca asked. "Are we going to move?"

The three of them stood there outside their school, 10 minutes before homeroom.

"Girls, we can talk about all of this later," he said. He hated that he whispered it; he didn't want to talk about it here, on the sidewalk, and they needed to get to school. But they had the right to know, and it was clearly weighing on them.

Both were quiet for a few moments. The girls looked as uncomfortable there as he felt. He looked over to the mom circle and caught a few looking over towards them. He sighed.

"You want to skip school today?"

He didn't look back as he pivoted away from the huddle of moms and nannies. Within an hour he was making them pancakes - they'd rushed out of the house so fast that morning they'd only each grabbed an apple. They had put their pajamas back on, and even Charles took off his usual work suit and put on sweatpants.

Since Pauline had come back, he'd let them talk with her about what had happened and what was ahead, but his conversations with them had been brief. It had been a whirlwind since she came back.

Now he sat across from them at the kitchen counter, where they were the most comfortable.

"There's a lot that we're still working out, your mom and I," he said, staring at his daughters happily eating chocolate-chip pancakes in front of him.

"I want you to ask me any questions you have."

They were quiet for a bit. He let them be quiet.

"Can we just hang out for a while and talk later?," Nicole asked. So that's what they did: They ate, they watched two movies, they took a walk in Central Park before lunch, then napped, played Monopoly, and watched another movie. Around dinnertime Bianca asked the question he'd wondered since he got Pauline's text.

"Why did she come back now?"

He didn't know why, exactly. He didn't know why she left in the first place, at least the exact timing. Everything they were doing now could have been done without her disappearing, without ignoring her family. And she came barreling back now, just as -

"Mom said she was in California," Nicole said. "Do you think she'll go back?"

"Your mom is here to stay," he said. When he spoke to Pauline she had promised him that. No more disruptions, for everybody.

"Will she get her own apartment?" Bianca asked. Their mom had, for now, been staying at her sister's and with friends.

"That's the idea," he said. They were quiet again through dinner, as they got ready for bed. Charles taught himself how to braid hair once he was on his own with his daughters, and as he braided Bianca's after her bath Nicole, who declared she was old enough to do her own hair, came into the bathroom.

"Are you and Liza still friends?"

Since Pauline had been back they hadn't hung out with her - everything had been too busy, and Charles had seen her on his own. Of course they miss her.

"Liza and I are still friends, yes," he said. "I know it's been hard, you haven't seen her."

"I miss Liza," Bianca said.

"I know you do," he said. "We talk. She's been helping me, and she's asked about you, but it's just been hard with -"

"- Mom was asking about her," Nicole said. "Did you tell her you were friends?"

Charles kept braiding his daughter's hair even as he became angry. Since coming back, Pauline seemed more interested in finding out about Liza than many other things, and now to know she had been prying infuriated him.

"I told your mom about Liza," he said. He didn't want to grill them now on what Pauline asked. "That's not your worry or hers. Ok?"

He finished Bianca's hair. It was always a little crooked no matter how hard he tried.

"But is it OK?," Nicole asked. She seemed the most uncertain.

"Honey, of course it's ok," he said. "All of it. You, me, your sister. Your mom. Liza. It's fine you told her -"

"- is it ok that you're friends? I mean, now," Nicole said. Months before he told her that everything would be fine. He wasn't sure then just like he wasn't sure now.

"I've talked about this with you before Nicole," he said. "Bianca, you too. I love you. Your mom loves you. But we won't be together. And that's ok, it happens.

"Your mom is back now but things aren't the way they were when she left. She's different. You're older, and different. And yes, I'm different too. There's Liza now. She's in our life, right?"

Charles couldn't tell if he was good at this or bad at this. He didn't know what to say in this divorce talk, but he did know he was being honest with them. That's all he wanted to be.

He hugged them both and they walked out of the bathroom.

"Let me tuck you girls in," he said. "And maybe this weekend we can see Liza?"

He texted Liza after he put them to sleep - it had been their biggest source of communication, which he hated. He wanted to see her, for multiple reasons. But mainly he missed her, and her presence, and everything about him when he saw her. Pauline had continued to fuck everything up. Asking their daughters about his girlfriend, who he never has called his girlfriend to them? They were traumatized from her abandonment.

Charles was now determined to keep the happy things in his life separate from her.

He read halfway through a manuscript and was starting to fall asleep when Liza called.

"Hey," he said, startled a bit but happy..

"Sure, tell me," he said. He sat up in bed. "You ok?"


End file.
